


Exhaustion And Eternity

by Arkada



Series: Hand In Mine [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Author regrets nothing, BAMF Frigga, Creative uses of magic, Established Relationship, FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Non-archive warnings, Odin's A+ Parenting, Panic Attacks, So much angst, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 66,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkada/pseuds/Arkada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Loki are in love, and nobody’s trying to kill them. Everything’s perfect.</p><p>Except that Natasha <i>is</i> trying to kill them, Pepper isn’t talking to them, and the team is falling apart.</p><p>And Tony’s limited time is running out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awake

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Avengers. Still working on saving up to buy them.

He did _not_ want to wake up, so why was he not sleeping anymore?

Tony groaned and rolled over to mash his face into the pillow, blocking the light streaming through his eyelids. Yes, dark, dark was much better, like there wasn’t a full day ahead of him or anything.

Because today was going to be the bad kind of day that Tony did not enjoy whatsoever. He _knew_ it. There was a meeting ahead of him, all Stark Industries crap that other people could have handled, but Pepper wanted _him_ to do it, so he’d spend way too much of his day playing nice with the people that, yes, he technically worked for, but he could think rings around them so why did they get to act like they were better than him?

And hadn’t Fury wanted something just a little while ago? Yet more tech or grants or stuff, maybe Tony to play security guard - yeah, that was slightly familiar, guard duty for something, someone… maybe? No, it was too early for this and it wasn’t like he cared about what Fury wanted anyway. Eh. If it was really important then Cyclops would doubtless beat it back into him. 

Tony rolled over again, sinking deep into the squashy firm mattress, head buried in the pile of the single pillow…

Hang on.

Sinking.

_Not_ one pillow.

Whose bed was this?

Well, this was _one_ way to wake up fast.

Tony did _not_ tense up, and did _not_ shoot out of the bed shouting and demanding to know what the hell was going on, because that was a good way to get shot and a total waste of sneaky reconnaissance. He just snuffled like he was about to wake up, got more comfortable, and snuggled back down again, totally asleep and not a threat at all, _leave me alone so I can work out what the hell is going on here_. He swallowed and tasted metal and coconut, arc reactor, that was a relief - whatever was going on, whoever they were, they’d left it in.

How incompetent were his kidnappers, anyway, because he had definitely been kidnapped.

He never went to a one-night stand’s house or a hotel, they were _always_ brought back to one of his places and in any case Avenging was a full-time gig and he really didn’t like the greasy disapproving looks he kept getting from Steve and Bruce and Natasha, so he hadn’t been sleeping around nearly as much lately, little enough that he’d surely remember if he’d legitimately hooked up last night and just this once gone somewhere else.

And since he’d definitely gone to sleep _in his own goddamned bed_ (firm mattress, one pillow per head) after marathoning a new design for Natasha’s ceramic gun, that left illegitimate. 

At least this was more comfortable than the last time - total lack of sand, bombs, and car batteries, for starters.

Also, bed.

Okay, this was just too weird but it was probably safe enough for him to get up now. If he wasn’t dead, wasn’t being actively threatened, wasn’t tied up with a gun to his head, then they wanted something they thought he could be talked into giving. That’d give him a couple days to negotiate and play reluctant-but-maybe-willing before they realized they’d get nothing from him, and by then he’d have another plan to immolate the lot of them and haul ass out of here.

Definitely before the team showed up to save him. He was _not_ going to be _rescued_ from these idiots like he needed the help, that would be way too embarrassing. Bad enough he’d been snatched overnight without even waking up.

But hey, at least he didn’t have to go to that meeting.

Tony rolled to face away from the light, so he wouldn’t get blinded when he opened his eyes, and opened his eyes. 

Gold.

Lots of gold.

Everywhere.

Not quite real gold, though - it was a little too bright, a little too warm, and ever so slightly actually fucking _glowing,_ like somebody’s idea of what gold _should_ have looked like. Gold walls, elaborate scrolly knotwork etched deep into them, gold-tinted warm lighting flooding the room. The bed, covered in dark green sheets, feeling like silk but much too heavy to be actual silk, was like an oasis in the middle of all this gold. A big oasis, this bed was far too massive for its own good, clearly capable of containing at least one orgy.

It was larger than _his_ , and he’d had a few orgies. He’d almost have to _crawl_ to reach any of the corners from here. 

Tony sat up and fought his way out of the sheet and made it to the edge of the bed, and escaped at least that far. So he wasn’t hurt anywhere, or that would have been a lot more unpleasant, and - he glanced down at himself - while not in any of his own clothes, he was wearing completely respectable black pants and a long brown shirt, well-made, and soft and warm; pajamas. 

Who _were_ these people?

Nobody was even _here_ to stop him from ripping up that sheet, making a rope out of it, and abseiling out of the window!

He turned to his escape route - his _completely huge_ escape route, it was less of a window and more like they hadn’t bothered with a wall at all. But he could see why, because it had an honestly fantastic view, a rippling line of tall bluish mountains, and the natural light pouring through was the only thing lighting the room.

He stopped. _No way_.

He checked again, but there really weren’t any lights on - there weren’t even light _fittings_ or lamps or anything - and no fans, no cameras, _nothing_ electronic, just the gaudy gold walls and the giant bed. Even in the butthole of the Middle East there had been more tech than this.

_Where the hell am I?_

Tony kept heading for the window. Whoever owned this place had never heard of occupational health and safety; the window had no glass, no railing, the wall simply rising a few inches from the floor before stopping. He felt like a taller version of Tyrion Lannister. Nice to be taller than _somebody_ for a change.

_Stay back, don’t do anything stupid, be grateful they didn’t give you socks._

He gripped the smooth gold-toned marble floor with his toes, and leaned forward.

_Oooo-kayyyy._

That answered one question. There was no _way_ he was getting out from here. 

It was higher than Stark Tower, and he couldn’t even make out people down below. Couldn’t make out _anything_ except the sweep of yet more gold beneath him, the walls of this building curving out to spread wide across the ground. It looked strangely organic, beautiful in a skeletal way, or maybe more like organ pipes, ridges on either side of long, deep, _deep…_

He jerked back before the sucking _depth_ got out of there and came up here.

_Where the_ hell _am I?_

Nothing on Earth looked like this.

So, not Earth. Not. Earth.

His breath was hissing but that was stupid because there was still _air_ here, no need to struggle for it, it was all _right here_ and he could _not_ have an attack like this, had to focus on the problem, he was fine and he could take care of this-

If not Earth, then somewhere else - a solid, real _where_ , not black nothing - _don’t think about that, you moron, focus -_ Asgard, maybe Asgard?

By Thor’s description of Asgardian mead, it _was_ reasonable for Tony to have drunk a bucket of it and forgotten absolutely everything, including coming to Asgard in the first place. And if that were true, then he hadn’t been kidnapped at all, just left in a guest room to sleep off the literally godawful hangover.

Only he wasn’t hungover. A little hungry - now he thought about it, a _lot_ hungry - but definitely not hungover. 

This was some weird shit.

Maybe Asgardian alcohol didn’t induce hangovers?

He backed further away from the window, and turned around and faced a double door in the opposite wall. If he wasn’t a prisoner, and was just Thor’s guest after way too much mead, those’d open.

But on the other hand, he had no proof that he was on Asgard at all, never mind here of his own free yet drunken will. Anything could be waiting for him out there.

Hell with it. He’d sat around for way too long already.

He threw his shoulders back, held his head up, locked a neutral expression on his face and bit his tongue so there would be no screaming no matter what was out there, because if he went down he’d go down _pretending_ he could deal with it, and he crossed the room and shoved the doors open and strode through them before he could second-guess himself.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Fuck his life.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony snapped at Loki, goddamn Loki, lounging on one of a pair of long sofas in the middle of the room, looking straight at him with a weird expression, something not actually smug or actively murderous or both. 

“Considering that these are _my_ chambers, Anthony, I think I should be asking you that.”

These. Were Loki’s chambers - rooms. Rooms was the word that people without god complexes used.

Which meant that bed… the bed he’d woken up in… was _Loki’s._

Fuck his life sideways!

_Twice!_

“Oh, shut up,” he said, only it didn’t come out of his mouth, but that was definitely his voice saying it, and what was this, what the hell was Loki playing at? Wasn’t the guy meant to be locked up somewhere for invading the planet?

Tony was an annoying bastard, sure, but not so annoying that the higher-ups had decided that forcing him on Loki consisted of appropriate punishment for the would-be conqueror. Right?

“You’re putting me off,” he said, only it _still wasn’t him_ , and someone lying down on the sofa opposite Loki’s stood up and-

And Tony was staring at himself.

Okay.

What? No. Not okay!

He stabbed an accusing finger at Loki. “Thor said you could only make pretty pictures of yourself, so what the hell is this?”

Loki glanced up at the figure-illusion-hallucination wearing Tony’s face. “Stark?”

The fake looked at Tony and grimaced in exactly the way Tony did when giving unpleasant yet slightly sarcastic news.

_Well, performance issues, it’s not uncommon…_

Why hadn’t Loki thrown him out the window again yet? It wasn’t like he could possibly _miss_.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Tony laughed, and wiggled his finger at Loki, _uh-uh_. Probably not the best idea to mock him, this wasn’t Stark Tower with a suit hiding behind the paneling, but his analysis still stood: there was something Loki wanted from him, worth keeping him alive and mostly untraumatized for. And it wasn’t like Tony had ever shut his mouth before, so he wasn’t about to start now. “That’s the best you can do? Vaguely ominous? Gotta say, not impressed. Let’s face it, I’m _here_. What makes you think I won’t believe the rest of it?” God, he believed in flying armored space whales. Whatever was going on here, it couldn’t be weirder than the flying armored space whales.

The not-Tony shrugged. “You asked for it. Here goes.”


	2. Apologies

_One day earlier:_

So it had been a week, and nobody was dead.

Normally Tony would have measured that in whole entire months, or, in the middle of some complete clusterfuck of a mission, individual minutes, but that was Loki for you, turning everything relatively normal on its head.

Except things hadn’t changed all  _that_ much.

Because Loki hadn’t killed Natasha and Fury for threatening Tony in a really idiotic attempt to control Loki, Thor hadn’t killed them for pissing off his baby brother, Natasha hadn’t killed Loki for simply existing, although it was possible that she was still just looking for a way to do it, and Clint hadn’t killed Loki because he’d actually taken half a second to think things through and realized that Loki wasn’t an evil asshole.

Wasn’t  _just_ an evil asshole.

Because for all he’d been tortured and forced into the whole invasion thing, for all the scarred self-esteem and the tendency to define himself in terms of Tony and Thor and how they felt about him at any given moment, Loki was still the God of Mischief, and he’d been almost hysterically thrilled at the discovery that Midgardians had these things called socks that came in pairs. 

Doors also tended to jam whenever Natasha tried to open them. 

The tower’s internal messaging system had been compromised, too, which had so far resulted in three people threatening to quit, an attempt to hold five meetings in one room at once, and a marriage proposal between two women in HR. 

Tony was equal parts killing himself with laughter and impressed, because Loki hadn’t been on Earth very long and the Stark Industries intranet was seriously complicated, and it was dancing to his tune like Tony hadn’t spent days writing the security protocols. 

The truly frightening camaraderie Loki had struck up with Jarvis at some point when Tony’s back had been turned probably didn’t hurt. 

And…

And there were lips on Tony’s neck.

Cold and ever so slightly damp, pressing soft little kisses along his nape.

“You’re awake.”

“So are you,” Loki murmured back, voice low and rich and gorgeous. “I wasn’t sure.”

His cool hand stroked down Tony’s arm, skin soft and smooth like he’d never done a day’s work in his unbelievably long life.

Life he wanted to share with Tony. Loki had offered him immortality on a plate, just like that, had already saved his life twice, and counting, because Loki wasn’t about to let a little thing like death get in the way of what he wanted.

And he wanted Tony, more than anything. It was stunning and wonderful and terrifying all at once, but mostly it was awesome.  

As soon as they figured out a way to do it. “Any new ideas?”

The mattress quivered a little and Loki’s naked body shifted behind Tony’s and his lips started migrating down Tony’s spine. “About what?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “What do you think? About the thing that’s been driving you nuts all week, Icicle, because you’re convinced that I’m going to drop dead at any moment.”

“Not so.” Loki’s hand crawled across Tony’s chest and splayed itself wide across the arc reactor, fingertips rubbing over where the metal met his skin. “You swore otherwise. I will not take risks with your life, I have you and I do not mean to lose you. But I believe you, my fire, when you say you will not easily fall.”

Loki’s hand, gently stroking, went still and tense. “Were you lying?”

“No.” Because  _A_ , kind of pointless when dealing with the god of lies, and  _B_ , Tony was in love with him and apparently trust was important and Tony had already lied to him enough. They’d reached their equilibrium here, found the balance between  _you’re only mortal_ and  _I can take care of myself._ “I am in danger, a lot of the time. I’m going to get banged up and hurt and threatened. But I’ll always come back to you.”

“I know."

And that was really as good as they were going to get. Loki’s magic was complicated and he’d never done anything like turning a mortal into an  _immortal_ before, so this thing would take weeks if not months to get off the ground. Tony would probably be out on several missions in that time, and he’d return to Loki bruised and aching and exhausted, the same way he always came home. But he would come back.

Loki didn’t like the idea much - but hey, it wasn’t like  _Tony_ enjoyed being tossed around, either. Still, for now, he was vulnerable, and they’d both have to deal with it until Loki worked out how to fix it.

Loki started moving again, slowly sliding down the bed, hand running over Tony’s chest, lips pausing at his shoulderblade, curving around the bottom corner, cool arches fitted to the bone, as close to a kiss as Loki could come without admitting that he wanted one.

Because if there was one thing Loki hated - um, well, okay, if there were several million things that Loki hated then one of them was having his gaping cracks exposed, weakness on display. And Tony felt exactly the same, which was why he was just lying here, not offering reassurance like he knew Loki needed it, but letting him take it for himself so neither of them had to admit how much this hurt sometimes. They could pretend that this was just a sleepy lie-in.

That everything was fine.

Everything  _was_ fine, more or less, anyway. Nobody was dead and nobody was actively trying to kill anybody, either; the Chitauri were gone, really,  _really_ gone, Odin couldn’t reach this far and in any case they had Loki’s vengeful mama standing between them and him - and if that hadn’t been the weirdest  _meet the parents_ in history then Tony wanted to know what was - and Thor and Loki had sorted out a truly remarkable number of their issues, starting with Thor letting go of every assumption he’d made about Loki for the past forever and Loki admitting that he hadn’t been the perfect brother either.

All they needed was for Tony to become immortal.

Oh, and he’d like to get back into a situation where he and Pepper were talking again. And maybe having his lover and his best friend  _meet_ was a good idea. 

And not having Natasha eyeing them every minute for signs of evil sounded nice, too. 

And being able to take Loki out in public without worrying about being executed by the inevitable mob.

Lots of things, actually, could be improved about this, but honestly, really, it wasn’t a big deal. Everything was fine.

Loki’s lips sucked hard at Tony’s spine and he gasped and bucked back into the touch. Loki chuckled, sending shudders through Tony’s body, and slid lower still, oh god,  _oh god_ , would Tony ever stop being instantly turned on by the slightest things that Loki did? 

“Mmm.” It came from the small of his back, and Loki’s hand skittered over Tony’s hip and down, down- “You’re hard for me.”

Hard and  _hot_ , a blistering core inside the cold cage of Loki’s fingers around his cock, blood throbbing against Loki’s pulse like it was trying to crawl inside his fingers. “Yes, want - need you,  _please-_ ”

Someone banged on their door.

“ _Fuck off!_ ”

Loki sighed, and no, no, he pulled his hand away and left Tony hot and floating and he dug his fingers into the mattress, needing  _something_. “Patience, Stark.”

Loki threw the sheets off and stood up, and Tony lifted his head to watch Loki walk across the room, all tall pale naked perfection, fixed his eyes on the tight, firm muscles moving in Loki’s back and the swell of that delicious ass that Tony had been riding last night and the long, long legs and okay, so Tony’s eyes weren’t fixed anywhere, but when he was fucking a god that looked like  _that_ nobody would have sued him for looking at  _everything_.

Loki stopped at the door and yanked it open-

_Oh shit, naked!_

“Wait-!”

“Captain Rogers,” Loki purred, and Tony groaned and shoved his face into a pillow because god  _damn_ it, it just had to be Steve, didn’t it?

“Ah - um - sorry, I just…”

Like watching a train wreck, Tony had to look back up. Loki, the unhelpful little shit, just tipped his head sideways and waited, hands on either side of the doorway, doing absolutely nothing to ease Steve’s utter mortification, and Tony couldn’t see anything past Loki’s back but he just  _knew_ that Steve was trying to avoid an eyeful of everything on display right in front of him. 

Okay, so maybe the others had a tiny little point that there were a few flaws, from their point of view, with the fact that Tony was fucking the God of Mischief. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I need Tony.”

Loki turned slowly and smiled at him. “Your captain wants you.”

“Oh, Steve, I didn’t know you cared,” Tony threw out, just to hear Steve choke and make Loki’s eyebrows ripple in pleasure, loving when Tony took his little tricks and ran with them.

Steve coughed. “Oh, God, I-”

Loki was smirking.

Steve coughed again. “Assemble.”

Oh, hell. There went any chance of Loki coming back to bed and blowing him. Or fucking him, or doing anything else that didn’t involve official world-saving business. “Urgent?”

Loki finally moved out of the doorway and let Tony see Steve. He was Captain America’d but not carrying the shield, so whatever was going on, it wasn’t here and it wasn’t dire. “Not urgent, but it’s serious. You’ve got time to dress but not-” He had been scarlet. Now he blushed vermillion. “Dawdle.”

Loki chuckled, and slid back into bed beside Tony and laid a cold hand over Tony’s ribs like he was ignoring everything Steve had to say.

And he shoved Tony hard and Tony flew across the bed and hit the floor. 

Ow.

“There, Captain. A gesture of my good faith.”

Tony rubbed a sore and stinging elbow, and scowled up through the bedframe and mattress at where he remembered Loki being before he’d kicked Tony out of bed.

Now  _he_ was the one naked in front of Steve.

He waved a hand at the door, though there were good odds that Steve was fully turned around at this point. Tony wasn’t game to look. “Look, just go, okay? Ask Bruce for some brain bleach and next time you need me before I’m up, just  _call!_ ” 

The door shut before Steve dropped dead of embarrassment, and Tony picked himself up off the floor. “That was so not necessary.”

Loki gave a little hum of agreement and Tony looked over at him, and the bastard had tucked the sheets up around himself and snuggled into his pillow - no, Tony’s pillow - like he was just going to lie there and sleep while Tony went out. “You’re not coming? I was kind of hoping you’d be my cheer squad.” And come on, they were practically joined at the hip these days, and Loki didn’t sleep all that much anyway, so what was he up to?

Loki opened his eyes. Blue pinpricks gleamed in his pupils where they caught the light of the arc reactor. “Unlike you, I am no hero. I do not have to drag myself from bed to save those incapable of protecting their own lives. I believe I shall stay where I am warm and comfortable, and have you tell me tales of your victory when you return, as you would if we were on Asgard.”

Loki sat up and beckoned him closer, long fingers curling slowly in the air, and Tony walked around the bed to Loki’s side.

“And then I shall continue my endeavors.”

Tony shivered and grinned, because the beginning had been very promising and Loki was exactly the last person to let avenging get in the way of what he wanted. “Oh, yeah?”

Loki settled his cool hands over Tony’s hips and pulled him a little closer, and smiled up at him. “I am still owed cream, I believe.”

Tony’s whole skin went hot and prickly, and the hard-on Steve had killed started resurrecting itself. “That’s not fair, you can’t say that when I have to go.” No, he wanted Loki spread out on his back with lines of whipped cream everywhere  _right now._

“I just did.”

“Then I’ll avenge very, very quickly.” Which was probably the whole point of Loki saying that, the cheeky bastard. Tony bent down to kiss him goodbye, despite the risk that he’d never come back up, and threaded his hands through Loki’s hair, soft and long and lovely. Cool lips met his, moving slow and gentle, and Loki’s tongue slid forward to tangle with his own, pouring cold down Tony’s throat.

Loki tipped his head sideways to break the kiss and Tony straightened up because he had to. Loki flexed his hands on Tony’s hips and pushed him backwards. “You are needed, Midgardian hero. Go.”

Tony went.

“Stark!”

“What now?”

“Dress first.”

~

“Jarvis, how long has Stark been gone?”

“ _Fifty-two minutes, sir._ ”

Fifty-two minutes. Not even the assault Loki had brought upon this city had lasted for so long. What foe could be so great that it was taking Stark near an hour to vanquish it? Surely the captain, or Jarvis, would have told Loki if his help were needed - Stark had to be capable of victory without him, but then what was taking so long? Perhaps next time Loki  _would_ rouse himself, if only to hasten the inevitable triumph and bring Stark back where Loki wanted him.

Lying abed had palled quickly, without Stark there to sate him, and moan in pleasure in his own turn. There had been no reason to laze beneath the covers once Loki’s Jotun blood had consumed the heat that Stark had left behind. 

He had dressed - formal Midgardian wear, today, as Stark favored it and it made Agent Romanoff angry - and had come here to Stark’s lab, surrounded by Stark’s creatures and his work, so dear to his heart. He had hoped it would make Stark’s true absence less bitter, and Jarvis and Dummy certainly helped.

A little. 

Still, Loki’s thoughts had spiraled around Stark without diversion - what did he face, was he well, had he won yet - but he would not chase Stark down as if he could not bear to be parted from him for even one paltry hour. 

It was not as though Loki needed his presence in order to breathe. Best to convince himself of that now, before it was too late.

A metallic hum came from behind him, and Loki turned in his seat. Dummy tilted his head, and rolled forward to nudge at Loki’s hand, seeking contact. Loki smiled, and stroked over the smooth curves. “Do you miss him too, sweet thing?” He ran his hand further back, along Dummy’s body, the struts and welds and joints of Stark’s making. “Hmm?”

Dummy hummed wordlessly as Loki did, and shifted forward a little more to press fully against Loki’s side. Loki draped his arm over him and held him close. “Yes, I think you do. You tell yourself he is surely in no danger, that he is a warrior born and blooded, that he has friends of his own to protect him. You know he will return to you, and still you miss him.”

Dummy lowered his head, and flexed his claws over Loki’s knee. Loki chuckled, wry and bitter, at the gesture. Even Stark’s machines could see how he loved. Even things that Stark told him did not truly live, were little more than what the Destroyer had been, could taste his sentiment.

Yes, and because they were Stark’s, they offered him comfort and reassurance, and sought it from Loki for themselves. Of course they did. Stark’s hands, Stark’s heart, had made them. Of course Stark had poured into them feeling and light. 

“He’ll be here soon. I know.”

“Soon? You sure?”

_Stark!_

Loki pushed Dummy aside gently, and rose from his chair and turned towards Stark’s voice. The blue light from the reactor met his eyes, and then Stark’s wide grin. His clothes were unstained and his skin unmarred, as if the battle had not touched him. “You are well?”

Stark began crossing the room, steps quiet, and waved Loki’s words aside. “It was just a briefing, can you believe that, I didn’t suit up or anything, don’t know why Steve did, the only thing I was in danger of was getting bored to death.”

“Ah.” Stark came within reach and Loki held him close, flame against his chest. He bent to kiss Stark’s cheek; the scrape of his unshaved stubble brushed Loki’s lips. Stark tucked his head beneath Loki’s chin, and held him back, and Loki sighed relief. Stark was safe. He had been safe all along. “I have known council sessions like that. More than once did I think that if Odin wished to assassinate his generals he needed only to lock the door.”

And yet Loki had sat there, sharply attentive, not permitting his mind to wander, a good and faithful son. All for  _nothing_ , for less than nothing-

_Stop._

Stark had returned to him; he had sweeter things to think of. “Tell me of your briefing.”

Stark laughed, and worked himself free of Loki’s grasp, standing just a little further away, enough for Loki to see his face clearly. He was smiling, his eyes warm and bright. “That’s so domestic. How was your day, darling?” He shrugged. “Nothing big. Fury’s just putting us on alert, the Council’s got hold of some Chitauri tech he wants taken back, we’re his little powerplay pawns except we agree they shouldn’t be allowed to keep it. But,” Stark shrugged, and grinned, waving a hand between their chests, “the important part is he didn’t say a word about  _us_ , probably because I sat there like a good little solider and didn’t nick out early to come back to you. Sum total of zero death threats today. Though it’s only nine in the morning, so he’s got plenty of time to make them, but I think right now we’re just not big enough of a problem.”

Loki nodded. Stark was safe; Loki cared nothing for Fury’s mood or his impotent warnings. He ran his hands through Stark’s hair, clean and carefully styled before Loki had disarrayed it, further proof that all of Loki’s fretting had been groundless. “I wish the captain had told us there was no battle for you to fight. No danger. No…”

Stark grinned, but it held an unusual hint of caution. “Aw, have you been worried about me?”

“The prospect of your pain does not give me pleasure. But you swore you would not come to great harm, and I believe you.”

Stark nodded. “About time.” His hands cupped Loki’s face, fingers along his jaw, thumbs running over his cheekbones. Perhaps he would lean in and kiss Loki, and begin again what they had started before his meeting. Loki tilted his face down, parted his lips in invitation; but Stark’s jaw clenched, and his eyes went dark and glanced away.

What black thought was this? “Stark…”

Stark shook his head, and pulled away a little. “Nothing. Dammit.”

“ _Stark._ ”

He met Loki’s eyes again, uneasy and anxious. “Pepper. Pepper didn’t know that.” His hands tensed against Loki’s face, and Loki lifted his own hands to cover Stark’s and comfort him. “Pep left because she couldn’t handle me getting hurt and I just - but you’re different, right, you won’t - I mean-”

He feared that Loki would abandon him to his fate, alone and unloved, if he caused him even the slightest discomfort. “Shh.” Loki reached out and laid his hand on Stark’s cheek. “You are  _mine_. My fire. Do you think such a thing can force me from your side? I will not flee at the thought of your pain. I am working to make such a thing all but impossible, and until I do I shall take your worst wounds with magic and bandage the rest.” He stroked his thumb across the arch of Stark’s cheekbone. “I know she left you.”

Stark looked away, hiding his eyes, and Loki pulled him close again, fitted him into the space that Loki had never known was empty before meeting him. “I know she left you, and would not share in your triumphs for thought of the cost. But she shall forgive you for it, I promise. I promised you this as we hunted the Chitauri, and I promise you again that any woman you so esteem cannot be worth so little as to never forgive you for being yourself.”

“It’s not like you know her.”

“I know you.”

“She’s done this before. Couple times. When I first made the suit, was trying to fix the mess I’d made, she was this close to walking out. Said she wasn’t going to help me kill myself. And then when I was actually dying, she kicked me out of  _her_  life, still don’t really know why - well, no, I do, I was trying to apologize for screwing up and she said  _what the hell do I want with a screwup_ and told me to get out. Which, she’s got a point, she’s perfect and I can’t live up to what she-”

Stark did not weep - if he ever did, Loki had not seen it - but this was how he broke, words muffled against Loki’s shirt, his body tucked into Loki’s as if seeking shelter and not merely the pleasure of his closeness. Loki held him tighter. Curse this woman, that she could cause him such pain and he would only wish for her return! 

But her return would ease the pain. That was what Stark said. “And yet she came back to you. I am sure she will again.”

“Yeah?” Stark nodded against Loki’s chest, and he breathed in deeply. “Maybe I should do something about that.” 

~

“Dammit, Icicle, why the hell did you let me do this?”

Loki didn’t answer, which was unsurprising given that Tony had left him at the tower.  _Just testing the waters, apologizing for last week’s crap before I dump you on her as well, now that I’ve thought about it I might as well get it over with._

He hated apologizing. Apologizing to Pepper never went well, if she let him say anything at all, but was it really shocking that he kept failing when she wouldn’t even let him try? Maybe he should just turn around and wait until she forgave him of her own accord, however long that’d take this time. Turn around and call the driver back and go straight to Loki again like he’d never left, and just… just not have anything to do with Pepper until this blew over. Just miss that entire part of his life for weeks or months when one tiny apology would have solved everything.

_Come on, suck it up. She’s worth it._

Pepper was his best and oldest friend, and she’d stuck with him for all this time despite how often she’d wanted to give up. She showed him how to be human, for crying out loud, and that was something that Loki could never do for him. Loki wasn’t human, he didn’t care if Tony fell way below the levels of common decency and everything else that people were meant to care about, but Pepper made sure he at least got close. Loki let him gain strength from his failures and his pain, let him stop thinking about debts and service and other things that sucked, to like himself as he was -  _I am not good, and that is not bad -_  but Pepper made Tony better, made him have consideration for other people and actually do his day job.

And she was smart and funny and he missed her. 

He flexed his hands, and knocked on her door.

“Just a minute!”

She actually had to come open it herself? How did she manage to live in this normal apartment for normal people? Pepper wasn’t normal, she was awesome and stunning and perfect and she deserved so much better than what other people had to settle for.

Except she’d told him she’d wanted normal.

The door swung open and there she was, hair down around her shoulders, casual tee and jeans like she always wore in her off hours. Her face was welcoming for an instant before she saw that it was him, and her eyes went dark and her mouth turned down and oh, shit, she wasn’t happy, and how was it fair that she looked so upset that he’d just come to say hi?

“Hi.”

“Tony, what are you doing here?”

“Well, uh, it’s not like you told me to never darken your doorstep again, and it’s been about two weeks now and - god, two weeks, really, is that  _it -_ I was thinking maybe heads had cooled and I was hoping we could-”

“Okay, stop it right there, because I didn’t leave so you could  _follow_ me to rant at me.”

Shit, this was exactly why he hated apologizing to Pepper so much! When he babbled at her, she just shut him up because he obviously had nothing useful to say. When he tried the same thing on Loki he got verbally slapped upside the head and told to get to the point. 

_Loki_ , “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Hah! 

Pepper blinked, and her mouth fell open a little bit. “What?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m. Sorry. It’s not that groundbreaking, don’t call a press conference.”

She sighed, and pulled the door open wider. “All right, come in.”

He walked through the gap she made for him and looked around. Modern, classy, expensive, but lacking the catalog feel that highest-end places usually had, used mugs on the table and shoes under the sofa. It was nice, ish, not as nice as Stark Tower, but the sort of nice that people who weren’t him had to deal with. She was probably neighbors will all the other NY-based CEOs, like some kind of fraternity.  _Sleepover on Friday, bring your own market projections._

Pepper sat down and under her, the armchair practically turned into a throne. Hadn’t Loki advised abject groveling to get back into her good graces? “Sorry about what, exactly?”

“Oh, I think maybe everything, that might be a good start.” He flopped down across one of the couches, and didn’t put his feet on the table. He totally would have in Loki’s presence, but he was being human today. Being  _decent_. All the little fringe bits that Loki didn’t know or care about. “Sorry for getting myself hurt all the time. Freaking you out. Not being trusted to keep myself safe.” 

Oh, oops, that last bit hadn’t been meant to Freudian-slip through. Pepper’s face hardened again. 

“Uh, that is, breaking your trust in me that I will keep myself safe.” Only no, it wasn’t, he wasn’t sorry about that, because Loki trusted him so how could Tony have broken that trust? This  _was_  coming from Pepper’s end, and he was really only sorry that she felt like she needed to keep away from him to protect what he’d left of her sanity.

And this was going so, so badly, there was no way this was going to get better, he’d said the words,  _I’m sorry_ , they were out there and she hadn’t even accepted it, let alone agreed to talk to him again.

He hadn’t even brought strawberries this time!

Screw it. He was just going to throw out everything about Loki right here, right now, and not keep that bottled up for later, because maybe it wouldn’t make this better but it sure couldn’t make it worse, and going by how she was reacting so far, they weren’t going to make this up any time soon and it felt so much like lying to her for her to not even know he’d fallen in love.

She was his best friend! He was supposed to share these things!

“So, yeah, I’m sorry. And I actually had something else to say-”

“Oh, so you didn’t come over to apologize?”

“Well, apologize, and catch you up with what’s happened to me the last two weeks, there’s been some stuff-”

She shook her head and scowled at him. “I said I didn’t want to know about you getting hurt or in danger or anything-”

She still wasn’t listening! “Pep, I’m in love!”

Oh,  _finally_ , that got her to blink and sit back in her chair and blink some more, her angry expression softening. “What?”

Brilliant, she was paying attention to him now. Stunned silence was technically better than talking over him, right? “I’m in love. With Loki.”

“ _WHAT?_ ”

Tony winced, eardrums throbbing, but at least she’d definitely heard what he’d said. “I’m in love with Loki. And he’s in love with me. It all got a bit hectic in there for a while, but we are - together.”

Wow, that sounded unbelievably stupid. But it wasn’t like he’d ever had to say anything like this  _before._

She gaped at him for a minute before she shook her head and scrubbed her hands through her hair and oh hell, they were shaking, what had he just done? “Loki? What - just- Let me get this straight. You’re claiming that the guy who invaded the planet, tried to kill Phil, and  _threw you out of your own window_  is in love with you?”

“Well, I’m claiming that the guy who was forced into invading the planet to save his brother’s life, stabbed Agent deliberately non-fatally in self-defense, and got shot in the face in payback for the window thing is in love with me. It’s not as simple as him being evil - which, by the way, he’s not.”

She drew in a rattling breath. “You’ve done it - you’ve actually gone mad. I’d think he’d brainwashed you if not for the eye thing. God…” She shook her head hard, and dragged her hands out of her hair and balled them into fists by her sides. “I can’t deal with this. Have - have you got  _any idea_ what this is going to do to the company?”

“What, the company? Pep, I’ve found something to like about my life! I finally have something to live for! And you’re complaining because of the company?”

She sucked in more air and her hands relaxed, folding neatly over her lap, and despite the tee and the messy hair and the total lack of makeup she was a CEO right now, just his boss, and not Tony’s best friend gossiping about his new relationship.

_What just happened? Where did I go wrong?_

Possibly walking out of the lab.

“Tony. You know who our major stockholders are. Can you imagine the drop if they heard you were  _gay?_ We can’t afford that kind of reaction from them! They barely tolerate you sleeping around with women.”

“Not gay, I’m opportunistic,” because that was easier to fix up than the rest of the wrong in that sentence. Yeah, he knew who his stockholders were, mostly the conservative jackasses from the good old weapons development days, not the type to support what he’d gotten himself into now.

“Not to mention that half of them probably lost somebody thanks to Loki! And the board, and the  _public -_ you’ll be lynched the second you step outside with him! You are redefining the words  _PR nightmare_ right now-”

He knew, he  _knew_ that, he knew this was a mess and was just the last in the long line of fuck-ups that was his life, he knew he could never take Loki anywhere that wasn’t the tower and even there Natasha was just waiting for the order to kill both of them, he knew that nobody but him and Loki would ever think this was okay.

Well, and Thor, because anything that made Loki smile was pure vibranium in his book.

And, he’d so hoped, Pepper. He was  _happy_ for once, couldn’t she just accept Loki as a thing that made Tony happy?

“Pep, please, just listen.”

“Tony-”

“No, really, I mean it! Just listen to me. Two minutes,  _one,_ that’s all, one minute and then if you still want it I’ll be out the door.”

She blinked, and took yet another deep breath. The high flush of color in her cheeks faded just a little. “Get on with it.”

He had one minute to cover everything he loved about Loki. As if that was enough time. “I need him. I  _need_ him, Pep. Because he’s so much like me that it almost hurts. He was tortured too, you know, put through absolute  _hell_ , and he fought back and he  _won_ and just looking at him tells me that I won too, because it’s so  _damn_ easy to forget when I’m walking around with this thing in my chest.”

He thumped the arc reactor, heavy and crushing and aching, proof that he still wasn’t free, had never really come back.

“And he  _understands_ that. How many people do you think actually  _know_ what it’s like to be snatched up and broken and what it costs to get back out? He did it. I did it. I don’t know anyone else who has.” 

Not Pepper. Pepper didn’t understand, not when she’d been smiling when he’d got off that plane, like everything would be okay. She had no idea just how much of himself Tony had left behind, bones and blood and Yinsen, what the promises he’d made in that place meant to him.

“Loki gets me. He gets  _everything_. All of me. He - he doesn’t let me hate myself.”

Pepper blinked.  _Tony_ blinked. Where had that come from? Where was this giant underground ocean of truths that Loki kept drilling wells into?

“I’m arrogant and self-obsessed and greedy and whenever I see anything I want I just take it, doesn’t matter what it costs or who I’m taking it from. I don’t even know how much money I have to my name, let alone how much of it came from what Stane was doing, because that was going on for  _years_  and I didn’t think to look. But Loki?”

Pepper was just staring at him, but at least she was listening. Her face was completely blank, nothing there for him to read.

His minute had to be almost up by now. “He’s just like me, except that I love him for it. He’s arrogant because he’s a prince and a god and yes, he really is better than us tiny mortals! He’s greedy and that’s okay because all he wants is me, just wants to hold  _me_ and love  _me_. And if he loves me and I trust him, how can I hate myself? If  _he_ says that I’m perfect, how am I going to look him in the eye and call him a liar?”

He flexed his hands, empty of cool fingers that would have taken his and kissed them.

“Pep, he’s the only way I know there’s anything good about me. If he loves me, it’s the only way I know I’m lovable.”  _So please, just say you’re happy for me!_

She shook her head, and smiled, bitter and strange. “God, Tony… You really think he’s the only one who loves you?”

Oh no, no, her voice - something was wrong here, something was about to come crashing down and he wasn’t going to like it one bit…

She blinked, her eyes flushed red. Her voice trembled. “Okay. Now you get to listen to me.”

He nodded, his stomach churning and pulse racing because something awful was about to happen.

_Stop, just stop, why won’t you stop?_

“You’re not unlovable. You’ve never been unlovable. Because…” She shook her head again and looked down, hair falling over her face and Tony almost, almost reached out to brush it aside and try to make everything okay.

Her shoulders firmed to steel and she looked back up, eyes lined with tears but she didn’t stop. “Because  _I’ve_  loved you, all this time.”

He could not  _possibly_ have heard that right. “Sorry, what?”

“I’ve loved you and I’ve lied about it, I’ve buried it and hidden it and pretended like it didn’t exist, because I didn’t think you’d want to know.”

Pep loved him? Loved him like he loved Loki?

What?

How?

“I thought - the way you acted, the one-night stands, the way you kept looking at me and then walking away - I just figured you couldn’t love. At all. Your head was full of wires and diagrams and things and you did have a heart, it was just that _thing_ , cold and blue-”

Just like Loki’s, just like him in that other skin, fiercely icy and wild and beautiful. 

“And now…” She laughed and sounded almost crazy and it tore at Tony’s chest, because what the hell was going on here? All those moments spent with Pepper, his best friend, his assistant and his CEO and his eternal support, practically his  _sister_ , in Loki’s words, or his sister all the times she wasn’t his mother, and now she was telling him she’d been faking all along? She wanted to kiss him, like actually kiss him and not the friendly joking peck that they shared now, at the end of the day when she went home. Their catchphrase,  _Will that be all, Mr. Stark? Yes, that will be all, Miss Potts_  - that was just a joke, wasn’t it, pointing and laughing at how professional they weren’t?

But she didn’t want that. She wanted an exchange of hearts like Tony had with Loki.

“It’s like he’s stolen you from me! You sit here and all you talk about is Loki this and Loki that, you completely ignore all the people he’s killed and everything he’s done, and you  _love_ him.”

“I’ve killed-”

“It was okay when you couldn’t love anyone,” she said softly. “But you just can’t love  _me_.”

_Pep, I didn’t know!_

_Why didn’t you say?_

_What now?_

But he kept it all back because none of it would do any good, and he just wanted to get out of here and find somewhere to curl up and try not to die because she was never coming back from this. They’d never get back to where they’d been, the comfort and completeness and trust, because she wanted more and he couldn’t give it to her. He was with Loki now, and she’d missed her chance, and they’d never look each other in the eye again without remembering these godawful minutes.

He’d only wanted to make everything  _better_ , to apologize for upsetting her and see if they could keep going, to make sure he hadn’t lost a friend, and now…

Now he’d ruined everything.

_Out. Get out, get out_ now  _before it’s too late._

His legs were numb and his hands were shaking but he stood up and crossed the room anyway, and opened the door and shut it behind him and walked down the hallway away from her. 

He’d left her like this in his workshop, too, when she’d said she didn’t want to know about Iron Man’s exploits, but he’d really thought she’d come back.

Loki had  _promised_. Loki had promised she’d forgive him.

But Loki was a fucking liar, everybody knew that, and he didn’t know Pepper like Tony did so why had Tony trusted  _Loki's_ word over what he’d known would happen?

“Dammit, Loki!”

A twitch of movement beside him and Loki’s voice, “I’m sorry.”

Tony turned his head and Loki was right there, walking next to him, eyes dark and concerned like he could see clear as crystal that everything was falling apart and Tony looked away because if he couldn’t see the evidence, if there was no proof, then there was no reason to believe that anything had happened. 

“Are you well?”

“Yeah, course, I’m fine, everything’s fine.”  _Head up, shoulders back, eyes forwards, smile_. If he could fool moronic ignorant journalists, he could fool the god of lies. That made sense. And fool himself, too. Easy.

“Stark…” Loki’s fingers wrapped around his shoulder and he tried to shrug them off, he didn’t  _need_ comfort, dammit, nothing was wrong, but Loki didn’t let him go, like none of that was true.

“Yes, I’m  _fine_ , stop asking.”

“I would rather you did not lie to me.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather not admit that I-”

That Pepper had never done anything but be there for him, whenever he’d needed her, keeping him sane and afloat and alive, never done anything but help him and all along he’d been killing her and he hadn’t even known. Hadn’t even noticed that she’d been holding herself back, keeping secrets, heart under lock and key because he’d never given her any reason to believe that she was as wonderful and magnificent as she was.

Tony stopped, because it was that or fall over. “I hurt her. I hurt her for years and I didn’t even notice.”

And then Loki was right there, cold arms around his shoulders, and he pulled Tony close and tucked him against his chest the way he always did, made Tony really feel how small he was, surrounded by a god. And the floor disappeared and the walls blurred and reformed into his bedroom, carpet under his feet now,  _magic,_ home and away from Pepper. “I know. But there was nothing else you could have done.”

“And you know that how? What, you had a wire tap in there?” 

“I followed you when you left here.”

Magic invisibility, he’d been there all along- “Oh, right, great, you heard how much she hates me and never wants to see me again and was hiding this big secret love the whole time-”

Loki hand on his face, forcing him to meet Loki’s eyes, deep and green and staring right into Tony’s. “I heard you say that I am the only thing that gives you any worth. I heard that you would loathe yourself but for my word that you are loved, that you are clever and strong and loyal. I heard you bare your very soul and say that you  _need_ me. My heart, my love.  _My fire_. That is all that matters to me.”

It would have been so, so nice to wrap that around him like a big Asgardian cape, just smother himself in Loki and pretend like nothing else was out there. Only it wasn’t true. He’d been with Pepper for way too long to just forget about her like that. He’d left a message for  _her_ , and nobody else, a week ago when the probability had come up that he’d been going to die. He’d missed  _her_ while walking side-by-side with Loki through Chitauri space, genocide looming up ahead of them. She’d saved his life so many times before Loki had even been on the radar, and he’d always been able to trust her. He couldn’t just cut her out of the picture like this.

“Sorry. She’s too much. She’s in too deep. I can’t just be without her.”

But he’d have to, because after what had just happened,  _you can’t love me_ , she was never coming back.

He crumpled back into Loki’s chest, buried his face somewhere, used Loki to hide everything that he couldn’t hide for himself, the burning in his eyes and the stupid hot flush in his cheeks. “Fix this. Have to fix this. I’m not allowed to hurt her.”

They sank, Loki’s arms and Loki’s chest unmoving, their legs bending as Loki brought them to the floor and sat down with Tony in his lap like he was a kid. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Have to fix this. Make me not hurt her. She can’t hurt because of me.”

Loki’s lips came down to Tony’s ear. “Because of  _me_ , Stark. This is my fault and not yours. If I were not here you would have her yet.”

Tony clutched at Loki’s shoulders, back, wherever. “Don’t go, don’t you dare!”

“Shh.” Loki kissed his temple, soft damp cold sinking into his skull. “I’m not going anywhere. But it grieves me that the cost of my love was yours.”

“Don’t love her. That’s the problem.”

Loki tutted. “You love her as I love Thor. For all I do not bed him, I do not love him any less. You love her because of who she is, not what title you affix to her. You love her if only because she has been with you for so long that you no longer know what it is to be without her.”

Tony shrugged. “Gonna have to learn.”

It felt like a knife through his ribs - and yes, he knew  _exactly_ how that felt, he technically had a wound like that right now, apart from Loki’s magic playing with cause and effect - deep and tearing and clawing everything down around where it lodged in his chest.  

He’d lost Pepper.


	3. Panic

Returning to bed together before noon should not have been like this.

They should have bared the other’s skin with hands shaking with need, desperate to finish what had been interrupted earlier this morning. Loki had brought the cream from the kitchen after Stark had left; it stood in a bucket of ice in the bathroom even now, awaiting their pleasure. And once they had claimed what they were owed, Loki had meant to gift Stark with the Asgardian attire he had designed for him over the past week, and then take him while he wore it.

But then Stark’s Pepper had broken his heart, and Loki’s with it. 

Stark was in pain, and there was nothing Loki could do for him. Anyone else who had hurt Stark like this would have found their severed head presented to him by Loki’s hands, but Stark would not wish that of Pepper. Just as Loki could not live without Thor, however much they had done to each other in the past.

But that left Loki with nothing to do but hold Stark in his grief, and know how little it did to make things better.

Stark lay between Loki’s legs, his head resting on Loki’s chest, his arms wrapped around his waist. Loki’s own arms framed Stark’s shoulders, and he had one hand running slowly through Stark’s hair, soft without the oils he usually styled it with, as if that simple touch would be enough to ease him.

Stark was trembling with the force of repressing his tears, but he would not weep before anyone. 

Even Loki.

Stark twitched, and lifted his head from Loki’s chest to speak. “’Kay. I give up, Icicle. What do I do?”

Loki looked away, unable to bear seeing Stark’s eyes darken as Loki failed him. “Last you asked me that, I told you to do exactly what has brought you here. I wonder that you would trust me so again.”

“I suck at people,” Stark muttered, low and wounded. “Can’t fix ’em like machines.” His hand, splayed over Loki’s ribs, curled up and grasped at his shirt. “Tell me. Tell me what it’s gonna take.”

“Stark…”

“ _Tell me_ what it’s going to take to make Pepper happy.”

Stark asked him about happiness as if Loki had ever known it.

Ever known it before this week, before having Stark for his own and calling Thor his brother without a moment’s doubt. 

Loki sighed, and rubbed circles into Stark’s shoulder with his thumb. What would Loki have done if Thor had wished to claim him for his lover? 

What would he have done if he had heard Thor cry that Stark had _stolen_ Loki from him?

If Thor had wanted Loki to be with him and him alone?

_Oh, brother. Never ask that of me._

_Ask anything else you can name, but never that._

And Thor would not, Loki knew. Why could not Stark’s Pepper understand them as Thor did? Thor saw the strength Stark gave Loki, and the love they shared. Thor and Stark themselves were allies bonded in battle and shared goals, and, as Loki had discovered this week, a similar love for drunken contest. Thor would hesitate in such a selfish endeavor if only because he knew taking Loki would pain his friend. 

But to this Pepper, Loki was only a vile murderous threat to Stark and a thousand others. She had served loyally for years, and had seen this creature stroll up to Stark and take everything she had thought was not there to give.

Loki’s hand seized in Stark’s hair. How could she have doubted? How could she ever have believed that Stark had no heart but unfeeling metal? The reactor was _nothing_ to his flesh and blood and fire. How blind could she have been to never see him?

But now that she had seen the truth, she wanted it. She wanted him. “You would have to belong to her. Completely.”

Stark shook his head. “Tell me something I can actually _do_. I’m _yours_ , you moron. Even if I gave you up - which, hell _no -_ I’d be thinking of you every other minute. She deserves better.”

Loki pulled him yet closer. “They always do. We are poison, Stark, you and I, unworthy selfish liars who lurk in the shadows if only to protect our own eyes from the sight of our twisted, broken selves. We take and we take from these people who say they love us, and what are we capable of giving them in return?”

“This is making me feel better how?”

“Because they _chose_ us, Stark. I am not even of Thor’s _race_ , and he chose me above all other men in the Nine Realms to be his brother. He could have cast me from Asgard - could have had me killed when he learned what I was and what I had done. But he did not. He called me _brother_ and saved me from the Chitauri without even knowing that he did. And your Pepper… If you hurt her, it was she who chose to endure it.”

Stark twitched at that. “Not exactly, I had a pretty solid contract on her…”

“Was she so chained to you that she could not have left had she truly wanted it? Was your presence all that kept her alive?”

“When you put it that way…” Stark’s laugh was shaking, but there was true humor in it. “God, I’d love to set you on my lawyers.”

Loki took Stark’s chin in his hand, and turned his head so their eyes met. “She stayed with you because she wanted to. Whatever you did, she chose you. Yes, you hurt her. I will not deny she does deserve better, but doubtless you and I alike would be dead for our crimes did we reap what we deserve. There is nothing I have done to earn such a gift as you, and yet I have you anyway.”

Stark’s eyes were flushed red, and as he blinked the first tear fell, streaking down his cheek, and Loki glanced away so that they could both pretend he had not seen it.

“Then what’s Pepper got?”

She had nothing, for Loki had Stark, and when he was the prize there was nothing else worth having. She had been gifted with Stark’s empire and found it meaningless, for Stark lay here with Loki. Weeping over her.

Did she know the pain she caused him? Did she know that her hurts reflected onto Stark’s heart a thousand times? She felt unwanted and misused and betrayed, and Stark called himself the monster that had done all that to her. Did she _know?_

Barton had used a Midgardian phrase to describe his relationship with Agent Romanoff: _Cut Nat, and I bleed._

Cut Pepper, and Stark stared at the hand he found a knife in, and hacked it from his wrist.

Stark sighed out bitterness and grief, and dropped his head back to Loki’s chest, a heavy warm weight. “There should be two of me. One for you and one for her.”

Loki laughed. “Two of you? This world is barely enough for one.”

Two Starks? How could such a force be contained? Their combined genius would overflow Midgard, would reach every branch of Yggdrasil. They would _compete_ with each other so, faster and cleverer and better, and at some point the lines would blur and they would produce one thing, brilliant and whole and perfect, and then doubtless bicker over whose it ultimately was.

One Stark in Loki’s bed and at his side and in his heart, and another one on Pepper’s arm, gliding through the glittering world she ruled, this _media_ and _public relations_ and _company_ Stark had told him of.

And the lines on Loki’s Stark’s face and the tears in his eyes fading as he saw Pepper happy, her heart’s desire fulfilled… 

Stark would _smile_ again.

“Would you have that?”

Stark sniffed hard before speaking. “Have what?”

“Two of you. One mine and one hers. It could be done.”

Loki could create a duplicate, identical to Stark, body and mind, a copy with solidity and breath and life, true life. With difficulty - this would take a great deal of power, and Loki would likely need Thor’s help, or some other support, and it would have to be done _before_ he brought Stark to immortality, or this copy would share it. But these obstacles were nothing when set before Loki’s goal.

If this second Stark knew nothing of what Loki’s Stark saw in him - if he knew nothing of the past two weeks, nothing at all - but instead was presented with Pepper, already in love with him and willing and desperate, would he not take her with both hands?

“Tell me, if you had never met me again after the battle, would you love her? If she had come to you before I did and begged for your heart, would it now be hers?”

Loki would not think of what _his_ heart would have been.

Stark blinked, and lifted his head once more from the growing dampness he was weeping into Loki’s chest. “I guess. I’ve never been able to say no to her, I’d at least give it a shot… Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“You want to clone me.”

Was that the Midgardian word for this? “Yes.”

“And give me to Pepper.”

“Give your double to Pepper. _You_ are mine.”

“Wow.” Stark blinked and shook his head. His hands flexed slowly around their grip on Loki’s shirt. “Okay, wow.”

“If this is not a thing you want-”

“No, no, I do. It’s a great idea, apart from all the ways in which it’s total shit.”

Loki sighed and nodded. Nothing was ever easy for either of them. “I know.”

“Because, geez, distinguishing us legally would be a nightmare, you’d probably have to lock me up with you in an attic and pretend like we don’t exist. And then if you didn’t you’d never know who you were talking to - yeah, never mind legal, picture you coming in for dinner and I’m standing there and you kiss me, does Pepper kill you or not? And SHIELD - they barely tolerate me _now_.” He shuddered. “Just - just put up with me because they have to. Keep me around…”

“Tolerate?” Loki scoffed. “Romanoff explicitly threatened you with death - and torture if death would not suit her needs. I would not say they _tolerate_ you.”

Stark swallowed, and shook his head. “Nope. She was bluffing. She never meant it. Really. Course they tolerate me. They need me. They use - they won’t-”

He trembled once, going stiff in Loki’s arms, and his pulse beat hard and fast like a storm against his skin. Something was wrong. Truly wrong.

“Stark…”

“SHIELD’s not that bad. No guns to my head and ordering me to work for them. Tasers don’t count, okay, they don’t. I can walk out any time I want…”

His whole body was quivering, and his fingers were white where they clutched Loki’s shirt. His head hung down, pressing into Loki’s chest, hiding from something - but there was nothing here! No-one! He was in his own tower, made by his hands and guarded by his friends. Did he believe Loki would permit anything to cause him harm?

But then why was he like this?

Stark gasped, and gave a sobbing laugh. “Not fair, it’s not- not like this…”

Icy tendrils were creeping around Loki’s heart. “Stark, what’s wrong?”

“Jarvis, temperature.”

“ _High or low, sir?_ ”

“High. Need out, need to get out…”

Out of where? What threatened him? Loki shifted, and pulled him closer. “Stark-”

His hands flailed, snapped up to Loki’s chest and face and shoved at him. “Get off!”

“What?”

He bucked and struggled against Loki’s arms, pained and wild, and Loki let him go and Stark shot from the bed and half-crawled into a corner. “Don’t touch me, don’t, you can’t…”

The air was burning now, but Loki had never felt colder. What had caused Stark this distress? All Loki had spoken of was SHIELD’s willingness to kill him, but Stark already knew of that. He knew he lived in danger and his so-called allies were twisted and far from loyal to him. 

What had Loki _done?_

“Stark, please…”

“ _Sir, I do not believe he can hear you._ ”

Loki stood from the bed and reached out - but no, he could not touch him, had been ordered not to touch him. Stark had fought him desperately, had dragged himself as far from Loki as he could. 

He could not touch him, could not speak - “Jarvis, what do I do?”

“ _Please stay back, sir. It will pass._ ”

A fit of some sort, then? Loki retreated, backing as far away as possible, into the corner opposite the one Stark had wedged himself into. It would pass. Jarvis had said so. It would pass and Stark would be well and Loki would be able to hold him once more.

How did Stark have such a capacity for suffering? Pepper had thrown him down into misery and despair, and now Stark could not find comfort with Loki. How alone did he feel, cut off and isolated and unable to bear a simple touch he so loved?

He _claimed_ to love.

Loki was a Jotun, colder than Stark by far, and Loki had seen the terrible damage done to flesh by a Jotun’s skin, for all his did not cause it - had he been paining Stark all this time and Stark had forgotten to hide it only when already brought low by Pepper?

“What have I done?”

He looked down at Stark; his legs were pulled up tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them, head tucked low against his knees. Low whispers spilled from his mouth, ripped and tangled.

“Jarvis, what is he saying?”

“ _He is attempting to persuade himself that SHIELD is unlike those who once held him captive. Unfortunately there are too many similarities to be easily ignored._ ”

Jarvis too felt it, the sheer powerlessness in the face of Stark’s pain, Loki could hear it in him. “Did I…”

“ _You hold no responsibility, sir. Mr. Stark will explain when he can._ ”

Loki lowered himself to the floor, limbs shaking, wiped sweat from his face. Whatever Jarvis said - until Stark took Loki’s fool head in his hands and made him believe it - Loki _had_ caused this. It had been Loki’s words that had flung Stark into this panic. 

What could he do? Jarvis said Stark could not hear him, and even if he could have, what would Loki have said? If he did not know what Stark feared, how could he ease him? He knew little of SHIELD as Stark saw it, and far less of the captivity he compared it to now. Stark had spoken of it only once, and that just to convince Loki that it was possible to fight against torment and win. That was all he had shared, and Loki had asked for no more. Stark would speak when he was ready, and not before. Loki left him his hard-won peace, did not demand that Stark shatter it for the sake of Loki’s curiosity. 

_That is what I can do._

Stark had fled from Loki; he clearly needed that same peace, needed solitude, needed Loki to leave him be. Needed _no_ man’s hand upon him, even Loki’s. 

He would _not_ cause harm to Stark. He would sit here and watch his fire tremble and quail, Stark’s hands knotted in his hair and his whispers edged and desperate, and Loki would do nothing. 

Nothing.

~

_Kill them all._

He could, he would, he _had_ , it had worked before and he’d do it again, he’d come out of Afghanistan like that and SHIELD would die too if they had to.

If they pushed, if they broke him, because they _pushed_ , pushed and never stopped, taking and taking and taking and using him up until he was dry and stuffing him back to recharge and dragging him out again, guns at his head and Yinsen’s hurried translations-

_No, that’s not right, it’s not-_

Natasha’s voice in Russian, he didn’t _understand,_ sounding just like the rest of them, drunk angry guys with guns who were just far enough gone to actually go through with it.

They’d sent him out to die, alone and cold and floating, tried to close the portal behind him - they must have been so upset when he’d made it, when Natasha had been too late, they’d taken everything they could - _one last golden egg -_ and he wasn’t good enough anymore, he’d given everything he’d had, ripped out of his bones and blood and his _head_ , they always wanted what was in his _head_.

_You have until tomorrow to assemble my missile._

_If you attempt to leave, or play any games, I will tase you and watch Supernanny while you drool into the carpet._

No - no, that wasn’t the same, it wasn’t - but they’d both shoot him if he didn’t do what they wanted - but SHIELD _weren’t_ those guys, Coulson hadn’t meant it, he’d been lying, kidding around, only a taser, Tony wouldn’t have _died-_

But what would a taser do when it hit the arc reactor, could easily overload it, blow it open in his chest-

_Shouldn’t be alive, they’ve had practice now, they’ll get it right_ next _time for sure-_

Too much, too much, he wasn’t there, wasn’t anywhere, they couldn’t touch him, _nobody_ could and nobody was. 

So why did he _hurt_ so much?

He was sweating, burning up in the heat, but heat was good, heat meant he’d got himself out, he was free, he was standing over their ashes and the _sun_ was shining, it had been _so dark_ in the caves, but he was out now and he was _fine_.

He was safe.

Tony sucked in a deep breath, hot and humid and disgusting, but his lungs stopped screaming - he hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped breathing, that wasn’t good - and let that breath out and took another.

_Breathe_.

In. Out. In.

_They’re going to kill me-_

No. They. Weren’t. And if they tried he’d kill them _first_ , they’d see, this was different, the guns were all in _his_ hands now and the suit had never let him down, and he’d tear them apart, they’d regret ever touching him, and he’d stand there and laugh and say _see, wasn’t that easy,_ say it to-

Yes. That was right. He wasn’t alone anymore.

He had someone there for him - not for the army and not for Stark Industries and not for _fucking SHIELD,_ he had his _own_ someone on _his_ side.

_Loki._

Loki, who Tony _knew_ would put entire armies in the ground to protect him, who would do anything and everything Tony needed.

And Tony was just sitting in a corner freaking out. How had he forgotten exactly who was with him? Why the hell had he left possibly the safest place on the planet?

He peeled his arms away from his shins and reached out his hands and hoped he was still capable of speech. “Loki?”

Loki was _there_ in a second flat, no footsteps, no rustle of fabric, just there - he’d _teleported -_ and he took Tony’s hands in his and his lips pressed hard and long against one and then the other, all cold and damp, soothing in the searing air.

“Stark?”

Tony’s head was still down, eyes forced against his knees, and it wasn’t going anywhere, he wasn’t that far up yet, but he squeezed Loki’s hands in his. “Here.”

He heard Loki swallow and felt his hands trembling. “Can I… Can I hold you?”

“Fuck, _please_ ,” and that was all it took for Tony to have a god wrapped around him, to be held close to Loki’s chest, Loki’s cheek pressed to the top of his head and the chill wetness of Loki’s tears seeping into his hair.

Tony moved a hand and found cold skin, an arm, grabbed it hard. “Don’t cry, don’t, I’m fine.”

He was, too - just not all the way, not up to looking at things yet, still hiding in the dark and the comforting pressure of his knees on his eyeballs, the way the world was so _tiny_ , shrunk down and touching him all around so there was no space for anything bad to get between the walls of the universe and him. But he was thinking straight, knew where he was, who was around him - much better than before.

But it wasn’t good enough because it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, it broke the pattern, this never happened during the _day._ He only cracked when he tried to _sleep_ , when he was just far enough down that all the stupid things made sense, that he’d believe anything, like he woke up but the nightmare stuck around. He knew that pattern - it wasn’t a long one, not many data points, but that was what it was. 

Unless it wasn’t, unless he’d missed this all along, God, what if it wasn’t valid anymore, he couldn’t trust it - this could happen to him at _any time_. Or - no, maybe it wasn’t him - had something else broken the pattern, something from outside?

“Jarvis, what the hell’s going on?”

“ _You have a guest, sir._ ”

“Huh?”

Loki’s hand, not shaking anymore, combed through his hair, nice and slow. “Ah… my mother is here, Stark.”

Oh, _Christ_ , his panic attacks summoned goddesses now? She was just hanging around _watching_ him- “Let me up, let me _up_ -”

“Please do not distress yourself.” And there was a rustle of fabric and a body nearer his, and that was the Queen of Asgard, right there, and she’d just _sat down on the floor with him_ because… that was how she rolled?

Had he really been so out of it he hadn’t even noticed Loki’s mom showing up?

He had to come back up. Had to come back up _now._

Tony sucked in a breath, cooler with Loki right there, and gripped Loki’s shoulder hard and pulled himself out of his hole and opened his eyes. 

Loki’s met his, green irises barely there around the wide black pupil, whites flushed red, and Tony flinched back from the sheer fucking _terror_ he’d managed to put there, what the _hell?_ “Loki, what- come on, I can’t have hit you that hard, what’s-”

Loki’s hand in his hair went very still. “You think - Stark, you fled my arms in fear of something I could not see and could not protect you from.”

Ah. Okay, he’d known that Loki got hurt when Tony got hurt, he knew that, but this… this was just a stupid anxiety attack, nothing serious - not really, not _serious_ \- it shouldn’t have got to Loki like this, shouldn’t have spread like it was _contagious_ , that wasn’t okay. But Loki was right, what the hell else was he supposed to feel when Tony freaked out and ran for cover? “I probably should’ve mentioned this when we first hooked up, right?”

Loki’s eyes flickered between both of Tony’s, and he bit at his lip before he spoke. “Jarvis explained, a little, but I… I would have appreciated some warning.”

“Sorry.” Tony’s head went back down, into Loki’s chest this time, forehead against his silk tie. “Fuck, sorry, I just- I never think about it when it’s not actually happening. But it’s nothing - just flashbacks, paranoia on overdrive, so don’t feel like you have to-”

“Shh.” Loki’s fingers settled under his chin and gently lifted his head back up. “It’s alright.”

Loki moved in, slowly, and touched their lips together, just a little, _here I am and I still love you._

It was enough.

Tony nodded, and turned, settling back into Loki’s body, to face his mother.

She looked the same as she had when they’d met on Asgard, regal and composed, hair piled high on her head, glittering with jewels. Sitting on the floor with her legs tucked to the side, billion-dollar dress crumpled, did absolutely nothing to make her less queenly. Still, for all the formal appearance, her smile was real and warm and just…

_Motherly._

And that had to be genetic programming because Tony had sure never gotten that from _his_ mother.

“Are you well now?”

Tony pried a hand from between his body and Loki’s, and held it out in the air. It wasn’t rock-steady yet, but he wouldn’t have burned himself if he’d been welding. And his ass was going numb, and he was all sticky and way too hot. Good sign, if that was his highest priority right now. 

“Close enough. Jarvis, air out the room, I’m cooking here.”

“ _Yes, sir. Welcome back, sir._ ”

He looked back at Loki’s mom. “And of course you’re perfectly welcome to visit any time you like-” most definitely, Tony had seen Loki’s face when he’d left her behind on Asgard thinking maybe he’d never come back, and it was a look that Tony would do a lot more to get rid of than opening a guest room, “but is there any particular reason you’re here? And what’s your _name?_ ”

Because it was getting weird calling her _Loki’s mom_ all over the place.

She chuckled. “I sometimes forget there are those who do not know me. I am Frigga. But as you are the man who holds my son’s heart, you do not have to be so formal as to use my name.”

Her name was _formal?_ What the hell did that make her actual title? And what exactly was informal about _not_ using her name?

Well, Loki and Thor got to be pretty informal, but come on, she couldn’t mean for _Tony_ to call her _Mother_ as well.

Could she?

If Asgard’s marriage laws were nothing whatsoever like America’s then maybe Tony was technically already her son-in-law as far as she was concerned…

She’d said Tony held Loki’s heart, so did that count?

Did he actually have a parent again?

Again? Yeah, right. _Do I actually have a parent for the first time ever?_

“And as for the other, if you can spare him, I would have a few words with my Loki.”

Loki twitched and gripped Tony harder. “I will _not_ leave him!”

“I did not ask you to. I would not, Loki, you know that. But there is much to discuss, and I am not sure your mortal should be troubled with it.”

“Yeah, trouble’s the last thing I want right now.” Tony patted Loki’s thigh, and pushed against his arms so he could stand. Loki shot to his feet and pulled Tony up, and the anxiety hangover hit him all at once - his legs were aching and all the muscles in his back were knotted and his head was swimming and he did not want to _discuss_ anything. “I’m just going to pop an Aspirin and sleep it off, okay? Go talk.”

Loki’s eyes went all nervous, and his hands gripped Tony’s elbows harder; he hadn’t let go after he’d gotten Tony upright, like he refused to not be touching him. “This will wait, I am sure-”

Frigga stood too. “It will.”

Okay, it was lovely that they were so concerned about him but what was he supposed to _do_ with this? He knew how to deal with the aftermath, Aspirin for the headache, and maybe a drink to push him into proper unconsciousness, and then it’d be blown over by the time he woke up. He just rebooted his system and he was fine. Other people hadn’t come into the equation until now. They cared and they were willing to help, but what did he ask them _for?_

“I’ll get some sleep and I’ll be fine. Go on.”

Frigga sighed at him with fond exasperation. “You are very like Loki.” She laid a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Put him to bed. Come to me whenever you’re ready.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed Loki’s cheek, and then came back down and leaned over and kissed Tony’s too, her lips warm and soft and the touch of them settling into his skin. “Call for me if I can help.”

“Uh - yeah, sure.” Had Tony’s mother ever kissed him goodnight? He couldn’t _remember_. He knew everything Howard had and hadn’t done, everything - Howard had never kissed him goodnight - but he had no idea if his mother hadn’t either or if she had and he’d forgotten. 

Frigga had already been more of a mother than she had.

She smiled at them both again and walked out, dress swishing across the floor, smooth and slow and rhythmic like waves over a beach.

He’d always loved the beach.

“Hey, Loki…”

“Yes?”

“When she said I didn’t have to use her name, did she mean…”

Loki set one of his arms under Tony’s back and bent down to get another arm behind his knees, and lifted him off the floor. Tony sank into Loki’s hold, slumping down against his chest, head spinning just a little, eyes drooping shut, and oh this was good, it was really good to not be under his own power right now. He could have made it, could have walked to the bathroom and back to the bed - could have stood up and smiled and kept going through his day, step by step, like nothing was wrong - but it was so nice not to need to. 

He felt Loki’s chest rumble as he spoke. “She meant that she considers you her family. You are mine and therefore hers, if you would have it so.”

“If? What do you think I am, crazy?”

Loki lowered Tony to the bed. The pillow smelled like Loki, faint and sharp and clear, and Tony snuggled down into it as Loki tucked the sheets around him closely, and sat down next to him.

He had a mother. Loki’s mom had adopted him too.

“Hey, does this make Thor my brother?”

Loki’s hand was back in his hair, fingertips cool and calming. “I suppose it does.”

“Replacement for Pepper, huh?”

It made total sense, because Loki compared Pepper to Thor all the time, so what was better than getting the actual Thor to take care of him instead? Anyone who’d managed Loki for a thousand years had to be able to deal with even Tony’s shit, right?

“Sleep, Stark,” Loki said, and he bent down and kissed Tony’s temple. “Don’t think about her.”

Yeah. Yeah, good advice. He was still shocky from the SHIELD-based panic, the last thing he needed was to channel it somewhere else, to circle back to losing Pepper, to hearing how she loved him and had never gotten to tell him and how he’d completely ruined everything… 

_Don’t think about her._

Tony grabbed Loki’s hand out of his hair and held it to his chest, gripped the long cold fingers and the heavier palm, held it close, but not close enough, he was still exposed, still letting Pepper get under his skin- 

He shuffled towards the center of the bed and pulled Loki down, felt his weight shift and then Loki’s head hit the pillow beside his and he moved closer, lying against Tony’s front, but leaning back slightly and his other hand somewhere else, and that wasn’t right, Tony didn’t need distance, he needed Loki to hold him safe and keep everything away. Tony pressed across the gap, wiggled into Loki’s chest, and Loki gave a shaky breath.

“Is this - do you truly wish me so close?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s - it’s okay now. Just not when I…” When he didn’t know whose hands were whose and _everybody_ was trying to hurt him and the only way out was to lock himself in, alone, something around him nothing could get through… 

Tony’s head hurt and his eyes were itchy and he so, so needed this to be over and Loki had already seen how broken he was, how weak, how pathetic - he already knew Tony needed his help. Needed him. Tony had given him plenty of openings that others would have exploited and Loki hadn’t touched them except to press his own cracks against Tony’s and seal them shut around the edges.

He could say this. He could ask. Nothing bad would happen. “Hold me?”

And Loki pulled Tony hard against his chest, arms wrapped around his torso, Loki’s leg draped over Tony’s, heel tucked between his calf and the mattress, caging him in, touching him as much as he could, Tony’s arms between their bodies, framing the reactor.

_That_ was better, security blanket, protected on all sides. 

Loki’s hair whispered on the pillow as he moved, and he tipped Tony’s head down to press his cold lips to his forehead. “I have you. No-one else will touch you. You’re safe.”

He’d come so stupidly close to forgetting that, and maybe he’d always been on his own before but he wasn’t now, he had Loki, and it was about time Tony started believing in that.

“Say it again?”

“You’re safe. You’re mine. No-one else will come near you.”

“Keep - just keep saying it.”

“You’re mine. Nothing will happen. You’re safe…”

Instantly, no hesitation, like there was nothing strange about telling Tony things he technically knew over and over again, like Loki didn’t care about anything but making Tony feel better. 

_He doesn’t, you moron. He’s got a heart the size of a galaxy and it’s all yours._


	4. Plans

Loki moved his hand where Stark held it, and shifted it gently out of Stark’s grasp. Stark did not move, did not stir, did not even make a sound as Loki slipped his fingers free of Stark’s and pulled back.

It was over.

Loki sighed, and let his gaze wander across Stark’s features. He seemed peaceful, no trace of his pain or terror left in his face. Stark was well, as well as he could be, and that was all Loki could yet offer him. As much as he would have liked to lie beside him, Loki could not; he had other matters to deal with. Mother would not have come here for something of little importance.

He pulled away from Stark slowly, careful not to wake him, mere inches at a time. If Stark made one movement, one sound, Loki would stop, and return Stark the protection he still needed - but he slept on, deep and still.

Loki stood, and looked back down at the short, dark hair spread across the pillow, the slight shadow of beard Stark had not had time to shave today; not even the faintest glow of the reactor escaped his shirt and the blankets.

Looking at him like this, Loki could never have guessed what Stark had suffered. What he suffered still.

 _My fire is choking._  

Stark carried scars upon his mind, old pain strengthened by new. Phantom fears lurked in the mists, waiting to leap out and strangle him.

Loki would see Stark free of them, whatever it took. Whatever Stark needed from him would be done. Even if that was to do nothing, and remove himself until Stark could bear his touch again. The misery and despair it would cause Loki did not matter; there was no price too high to see Stark smile. And then Stark would whisper apologies and thanks and love, would not simply allow Loki to bleed in his place, would insist that Loki smile along with him. 

No more waiting for that future, no more tolerance of these mortals who only distressed Stark. Loki would replace him with another to satisfy his concerns for this woman he called friend, and then… if Stark was not safe here, Loki would take him somewhere else. Bear him away from this poisonous place and people who traded in his pain, hide in an attic as Stark had suggested. Hold him close and allow none to come near until Loki found a way to bring him to immortality. 

And he _would_ find one, and if he could not then he would create one. This had to be possible, there _had_ to be a way, this week’s failure meant nothing, he _would_ succeed…

But it could not be done now. Loki was called elsewhere.

 _Dampen, hide, conceal -_ he called magic and wrapped it around Stark, veiling him in quietness, and slipped across the room and closed the door behind him without a shiver of noise reaching Stark to wake him.

Absurd. Stark’s halls were well-made - he did not need Loki’s magic to be undisturbed in his sleep. _I am delaying._

Mother had said she would wait for him, but Stark was asleep, and she had waited long enough. He had to go.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to rest against the closed door. He did not want to know what had brought her here. She had accepted their parting, had held only distant hopes that one day he would be able to return to her side; this was not a social visit, or she would have told him then that she would come to him. This was surely the queen’s business, Asgard’s business, and Loki would have no part in that. 

Asgard was not his home, Odin was not his father, they had _nothing_ that Loki wanted, nothing that could have made him come crawling back to bend his neck under Odin’s yoke once more. Loki’s loyalty lay with Stark and Thor, and there it ended - Stark served no master but himself and though Thor loved Asgard still, Loki was first in his affections.

He would _never_ be dragged back there, never let himself be trapped again-

_Stop._

He was balanced upon the same trap that had held Stark, panic and fear smothering all reason. Loki drew in a deep breath, and another. _Calm, you fool_. Whatever Mother’s business, it was _hers._ She would not be playing messenger for Odin, not to her son to whom he had been so cruel. This would not be trivial and it would not be to his harm. Or Thor’s, or Stark’s.

The sooner he went, the sooner he could return to Stark’s side.

Loki straightened his garments, and closed his eyes. _Feel, reach, see,_ he hunted the tower for her, through the rooms and the halls; found her, a light soft and warm but strong.

 _Step, leap_ there, to the center of the room, a small, private study, bright sun streaming through the window, the air warmed to match it.

Mother was sitting on the lounge against the wall, a cup of Midgardian tea raised to her lips. Three more sat on the low table before her, already drained, droplets clinging to the white insides. He must have left her waiting above an hour - he had _dared_ make his mother and his queen dance attendance on his patience- 

No. No, he had been kept from her by greater need, and she understood that. She had told him to do so. He had obeyed, not disrespected.

He had been away from her too long if he was forgetting such things, if he doubted the infinity of her love for him. _Calm, damn you._

She smiled when she saw him, and lowered her cup to the table beside the others. “He is well?”

She knew better than any the limits of healing, knew that Stark was far from well. She but ensured that he could spare Loki for the moment. He shrugged, and crossed the room to sit beside her. “Well enough. He sleeps. He will tell me more of this when he can.”

She reached out a hand to his. “You have felt the touch of it yourself, Loki. When you forget that you are safe, when you no longer remember you are not in your enemy’s grasp. I know you have had dreams that have bled into your waking moments.”

They were not dreams, they simply bled, his scars and pain and loss, whipped and beaten and promised death for those he loved.

_I tried to kill Thor when I mistook him for a Chitauri, do you know that? That I tried to kill myself?_

Given lies from mouths he trusted, his own _father-_

No, no, it was too painful, too much; he could not think of this now, not scraped raw by Stark’s remembrances, or he would fall. 

He almost laughed at that. “Stark and I are so broken it is a wonder we survived to find each other at all. Yet greater wonder that we did not shatter at the first touch of our hands.”

“But you are strong, both of you, and stronger still with the other, are you not?”

“Always.”

 _I need him, Pep. I_ need _him._

And oh, Loki needed Stark, more than he had breath and thought to understand. Needed that brilliant mind to match his own, needed the unwavering love and acceptance that Stark offered him so freely. Needed the easy trust they had built, overpowering what they had done to each other; the invasion and the attack, Loki’s attempt on Stark’s life, Stark’s betrayal on the Chitauri world - none of that mattered, none of it broke them apart.

Broke them, perhaps, but their shattered edges fit together so perfectly. Stark heard when Loki screamed and held him when he wept, and there were no thoughts of weakness, for on any other day it might be Loki holding Stark. Today, even. 

Mother nodded. “You suit each other well. I know you are long past wishing your mother to approve all your decisions, but I do like him.”

“Mother, please. Do not doubt yourself so. Of course I want you to like him.”

She smiled, and patted his hand. But she did not answer him, and he could feel the patterns of her thoughts shifting, turning grave and intent, her eyes darkening and going still. Here it was, then, why she had come.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Loki.”

He went stiff, and sat straighter and lifted his head. “Yes?”

“You must know that you may come to Asgard.”

“What?” _No, no!_ He jerked his hand back and laughed, laughed instead of screaming. “Asgard? Why would I _ever_ wish to go back there? What do you think-”

“ _Loki._ ”

He fell silent, pressed his lips together and ducked his head to hide from her disappointment. He had promised to listen, and broken that promise within moments of making it.

 _Fool_. Mother would not have spoken of this without reason.

“Why do you tell me this?”

She reclaimed his hand. “I know what you plan for your mortal. Immortality. I would wish for your success - but, Loki, it cannot be done.”

“It _can_. I know it can. I simply have not yet found how.”

“You must see that such a thing is not possible. Mortal, immortal, these are lines that cannot be crossed, not even by you.”

He shook his head, hard. “Don’t say that.” He would not believe it, would not - he would _not_ accept that he would watch Stark age and die and leave Loki alone until he found a way to follow him. And he would go knowing he caused the same pain to Thor. Unless he stayed, unless his loyalty to his living brother outweighed that to his dead lover, and every day would be spent in Thor’s company thinking of Stark.

No. It was a fate he would not own. He would have them _both,_ forever, no matter the cost.

“ _I will find a way._ ”

“My ambitious boy. You cannot make him immortal, but you do not need to.” She smiled gently, and reached out her free hand and laid it over his pounding heart. “You only wish for him to stay with you. What are you, Loki?”

_Oh._

_Oh, Mother…_

Even gods could fall, and age, and for all their inability to die from such age they could still be killed. Not truly immortal, merely stubborn.

And Stark was so very stubborn.

Yes, Loki wanted to keep Stark with him. He wouldn’t have to be immortal to stay with Loki; Stark just had to be like him.

Make Stark a _god,_ not immortal, just a god - Aesir, not Jotun, Loki would not curse Stark with his burden - but make him Asgardian, and he would stand beside Loki for millennia without being crushed beneath the years’ weight.

Aesir.

And that - _that_ could be done. Loki had seen it done for himself, seen Thor’s mortal body regain the power of a god. He even had access to Mjolnir - Thor would wield it at Loki’s command once more - all it would take was for Loki to channel the power appropriately, for Stark’s body to claim it instead of letting it claim him.

This was possible.

He seized both of Mother’s hands and brought them to his lips. “Thank you, thank you…” How long would he have struggled in futility without her guidance? What might he have lost- but he hadn’t lost, it didn’t matter, she had saved him in time.

She smiled at his frenzy, but only for a moment before she slipped her hands from his. “I must go.”

Go? “Now?”

She nodded, sorrowful, and this time he bit his tongue and did not question her. She already surely risked Odin’s ire in coming here to see him, and had duties to Asgard of her own. If she knew she could not stay, it would only cause her pain to beg for more of her time.

Loki missed her still, but he was no child to cling to his mother’s skirts.

He forced himself to smile. It was a great gift that she had been able to come at all. “Then farewell.”

Her eyes looked heavy as she rose to her feet; Loki stood along with her. She met his gaze steadily, solemn. “I will see you again.”

She stepped back, and the air shimmered and wrapped around her like a cloak. Then it faded, and she was gone.

_I will see you again._

She had spoken with caution and with sadness. Did she foresee a long parting? Or merely a joyless reunion?

She would have warned him of anything dire; it was surely merely the former. She had not come here for anything other than helping Loki to protect Stark. She had set Loki’s hand to its proper task - as she always had, his first and only teacher - and had not even stopped to see Thor before leaving, unless she had taken advantage of Loki’s time with Stark. If she could not afford the slightest of social visits, they likely would not meet again soon.

But she loved him and forgave him, and that was far, far more than enough.

Loki drew in a breath, deep and calm. She was gone, her business done; he would return to Stark’s side, where he belonged. 

And, perhaps, begin to consider ways to turn a human into an Aesir.

~

“You have returned.”

“I have.” Frigga walked past her husband without glancing in his direction. Loki’s face was still fresh in her mind, all the scars and fear and heartbreak that he concealed so desperately still written anew on her soul, the ink of his sorrow not yet dry. If she looked at Odin now, she could not promise herself she would hold to her calm.

She did not even know _all_ that this man had done to her sons. But she knew enough, and was she not equally to blame for allowing it? She had known of his plans for Loki, known he had been too hasty in Thor’s crowning. Why had she not simply told him _no_ , and swept both of them under her cloak and taken them away?

Because they were not truly hers; not hers alone. They also belonged to Asgard, and Asgard’s king. Asgard’s queen could not stop that.

Odin fell into step beside her. “Will they follow you?”

She sighed. He hoped for Thor, and feared Loki. Still he did not realize that he could never have one without the other. _You should hope for Loki. He is the only one who can bring Thor back to you._ She shook her head. “You’re a fool, Odin Borrson.”

“I am a fool? I sought to protect my heir and all the realms from that liar and murderer!”

Liar, and murderer, and where did Odin think Loki had learned such things? Who had raised him on tales of glorious battle against his own race, fueled his hunger for arrogance and power-lust, and then refused to allow him to sate either? It had not been Frigga.

“Loki cannot be trusted.”

“No, he cannot,” she agreed. “If he wished, he would gladly bring all Asgard to her knees, and, thanks to you, Thor would stand beside him as he did so.”

“Then I must act before he can destroy us!”

Frigga did not stop walking, did not spin to face him or seize his robes in her hand. She was done with her anger, done with the storm and fire of her rage; her fury had settled cold and patient, like a Jotun’s kiss. _Act._ Her husband wanted to kill her son. But she would not scream and fight in Loki’s defense; she would simply have it that Odin did not. She merely spoke, low and level, in the voice that Odin Allfather had obeyed a thousand times before and would again. “You sought to take his ability to slay Asgard, and you failed. So now you will make sure he has no wish to. Give him no cause to hate this place, and he will have no cause to end his suffering.”

Odin scoffed. “Am I to play to the capricious whims of that ungrateful boy?”

No. No, Odin would not do so. Frigga knew it with the same certainty of all her visions, tinged with prophecy. Odin would not break before Loki.

But he would, to the very slightest of degrees, bend.

And that was enough. Frigga was a mother but she was also a wife, and if she was to see her sons safe then equally she had to protect her husband, even from himself. If she did not wish to be wed to a tyrant, it was hers to turn Odin away from becoming one.

Frigga would have her husband back. The man she had married, not the king he had become.

And she was Asgard’s guardian. Asgard needed a new king, needed Thor. Odin was tired, and beginning to fail himself. She had to bring Thor back into his father’s good graces, and see him made heir again. 

But lastly she was a mother, and she had to see Loki’s heart safe. It sat within a mortal’s chest, now; she needed to give Tony Stark the strength to protect it.

She would have peace in her house once more. She would have her sons and her husband be civil to one another when they sat at her table.

She stopped, turned to face Odin, and laid her hand on his cheek. She could feel wrinkles, of age and cares, beneath her touch, see the long-endured shadows of weariness in his eye. “You are king. You must do as you see fit. But if I should gift you with my sons again, I beg you will be more kind to them this time.”

She lowered her hand, and walked away.

~

“Hey, Tony - wow, you look awful.”

Did Steve really think that telling him how awful he looked was a way to make him feel better about it? Star Spangled Idiot.

“You just don’t want to admit that I make you look like one of the really weird Picassos, only Euclidean nightmares have shoulders as wide as you do, now sit down and quit being insecure, Loki made lunch.”

Steve blinked, clearly mildly stunned, but to his credit he didn’t immediately accuse Loki of wanting to poison them all. He just pulled out a chair and grabbed a plate, and helped himself to a couple of bread rolls from the basket and a big scoop of the sauce thing that Loki had made.

It was seriously _delicious_ , warmly spiced with actual flavor, not just heat; something about throwing meat and vegetables and stock into a pan and leaving it all to simmer for about ten years, accelerated with copious use of magic. However he’d done it, he’d produced a thick soup or a smooth uniform curry, dripping slowly off the bread because Tony was putting so much on; it was good stuff, and he could practically feel the solid food chasing out the last traces of his panic hangover, the headache and the tiredness and the shakes. And anxiety was hard work, made him hungry as hell. He’d already had three rolls and was attacking his fourth, and he wasn’t going to slow down any time soon.

If Loki offered him this stuff while he was working, it was possible that he’d actually stop to eat it.

“This is _good_ ,” Steve said, eying the roll in his hand, large bite taken out of it. “We would have loved food like this behind the lines in Europe.”

Tony leaned over to whisper to Loki. “That’s a compliment.” It was also Steve trying to share something about himself and show that he was willing to be friendly if Loki was, but saying that out loud would give the game away a little.

“I gathered.” Loki smiled, and his eyes flickered rapidly over Tony’s face, taking advantage of his closeness to hunt down any lingering shock. But given that he didn’t pull Tony into his lap and start promising to protect him, he was satisfied.

Tony sure felt a lot better. However long Loki’s meeting with his mother had taken, he’d been there when Tony had woken up. Tony hadn’t even asked for food - his stomach had just rumbled and Loki had carried him all the way here, dropped him in a chair at the table and disappeared into the kitchen for fifteen minutes.

He’d fallen in love _before_ he’d known that Loki could cook, but damn if he hadn’t fallen in love all over again just a little bit.

He’d have to make sure Steve didn’t get any ideas…

“Hey, food!”

That was Clint, trooping in, rubbing his hands together, and trailing the others - Thor grinning, Bruce looking a shade more relaxed than he had been this past week, and Natasha-

She saw Loki sitting there and stopped dead in the doorway, fingers twitching by her sides like she wanted a knife or a gun and no way was she not carrying either, she was going to attack him right here-

“What is this?”

Everyone stopped, Steve with his mouth full and Clint and Bruce hovering awkwardly above their chairs and Thor with his hands full of bread, and Loki shifted to put himself between Tony and Natasha. 

“Lunch, Agent Romanoff,” he said, voice icily polite, nothing getting through. 

“Thank you, brother,” Thor said pointedly, trying to break the moment apart with Mjolnir levels of subtlety, sitting down and ripping open his bread rolls like nothing was going on.

But Natasha visibly flinched, barely, but there, and practically snarled. “ _You_ made this?”

Loki took a long, slow, deliberate bite, like he was trying to establish that he hadn’t poisoned it. Or maybe it was just so he could be rude and speak with his mouth full. “I did.”

Oh, shit, Natasha’s eyes were narrowing and her hand was going behind her back and _somebody_ was about to die - “Hey-”

“You expect me to eat something _you_ had your hands all over?”

“It amuses me that you think I care what or if you eat.”

Natasha spun and strode out, just like that, body rigid as a plank, and that was extremely, extremely bad because Natasha had eaten with her marks before, all the time, happily sat with people she was about to kill, but she couldn’t even force herself to tolerate Loki’s presence - if she wasn’t even trying to hide how much she hated him-

She and Tony had gotten along just fine before this, not warm, but mutually respectful. But if Tony was going to be with somebody Natasha loathed to the core, he couldn’t expect that nothing would change between them. And it wasn’t like he was about to join the fan club of anybody who hated Loki that much, either.

Clint straightened up, slowly. “I should…”

Bruce shook his head and put a hand on Clint’s shoulder. “I’ll go.”

He left too - and he didn’t even snag a roll to take with him.

Ouch. Bruce wasn’t exactly against Loki’s presence but he had taken the whole Hulk-being-used-to-smash-up-the-helicarrier thing kind of personally. But maybe that was pessimistic, he wasn’t necessarily taking the excuse to get out - he was probably actually the best person to sit with Natasha right now. Clint was certainly in the pro-Loki camp and Natasha wouldn’t have taken his presence well.

As for Tony and Thor, just no.

And Steve, while he believed Loki had done wrong in attacking New York, also believed in second chances and seeing the best in people. Hearing that Loki had only been protecting Thor had made a big difference in his book.

Pretty damn big. 

_You know, I led my best friend to his death. If I’d been offered a choice like yours… I don’t know if I would have turned it down._

Which meant a lot coming from the man who was supposed to represent everything good about a country whose stated policy was _not_ to negotiate with terrorists. Tony had explained exactly how much to Loki afterwards, and Loki had been quite respectful towards Steve since then.

Quite respectful for Loki, that was. It basically meant he spared Steve from the water-bucket-above-door pranks, and that was it.

Tony glanced around the table again. Him, Thor, Steve, Clint - the Avengers on Loki’s side - and Loki himself. Normally Tony wasn’t much of a one for team meals - and really not since he’d hooked up with Loki - but _nobody_ here hated anybody else. This could actually be enjoyable.

He opened up his fifth roll and drenched it in sauce, and bumped Loki in the side with his elbow to set the conversational ball rolling, hopefully not off a cliff. “Where’d you learn to cook? I’d think a prince wouldn’t do anything for himself.”

“’S really good, by the way,” Clint said, mouth stuffed, and he flashed a thumbs-up.

Loki smiled, one of his small bright-eyed sincere ones, like he’d never been told that before. And knowing how much Asgard hadn’t appreciated anything Loki had to offer, maybe he hadn’t. “Thor and I used to go on hunting trips together. He was more likely to fall into the fire than produce an edible meal with it, and I disliked bloodying myself in skinning whatever we had killed. The division of labor worked well.”

Thor swallowed what might have been an entire roll, and brushed crumbs out of his beard. “And it meant we could assign our friends the wet and cold chore of cleaning everything afterwards.”

“Mmm. I remember you once assigning the Lady Sif to clean _you_.”

Tony and Clint both coughed on their food, spraying crumbs across the table, and Thor went red and ducked his head, grinning sheepishly. Steve looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be disapproving. But _fuck_ , it felt good to be laughing at something.

Loki was smirking widely, eyes alight with mischief. “She threw her tankard in his face for it. He was bruised for a week, and never suggested it again.”

He popped a single chunk of dripping bread in his mouth, and a thin line of sauce ran down from his lip, dark red against his pale skin, and oh, come on, that just wasn’t fair, there was no way Tony could resist that.

He set his hand on the back of Loki’s chair and leaned in and licked up the trail delicately, tasting the rich spice and the faint tang of Loki’s skin beneath it, and pulled away just as he flicked the tip of his tongue over Loki’s lip. 

Loki’s smile quirked at the corner, and he ran his fingertips down Tony’s cheek, sweet and, even after this crazily short time, familiar.

Somebody coughed, probably Steve.

Tony glanced back over at the accidental audience; yep, Clint and Thor were eating solidly with the enthusiasm of those who couldn’t have cared less what Tony and Loki did - if they’d stripped off and started fucking on the table, Clint would’ve fetched them the lube - so it was Steve who was awkwardly looking away.

“Cap, if we want privacy, we’ll wait until we’re alone.”

Loki shrugged. “Or blind you.”

Tony fought to keep a stern face like that had been a serious threat, and smacked Loki’s knee. “We don’t talk about casually maiming my friends, remember?” he chanted like an elementary school teacher. “We are not evil!”

Loki’s mouth dropped open and he huffed, playing perfectly offended. “I wasn’t going to _maim_ him! Merely blind him. Temporarily. Assuming I was in a good mood, which would entirely depend on your _services_.”

The lewd twist in his voice alone had Steve coughing again.

Tony set his hand under Loki’s jaw and dug his fingers in just a little, catching between the bone and the column of his throat. “You need to shut up now,” and Tony pulled him in and kissed him.

He felt Loki’s lips grinning sharply before they melted against his and then opened, and Tony pushed his tongue between them. Loki tasted of his food, spicy and warm, actually warm, and it felt so strange for Loki’s lips to be anything but cold. Tony kissed him harder, licked his way to the back of Loki’s mouth, hunting the chill that had to be there-

And it came with the rush of Loki’s blood, pulse thrumming faster against Tony’s lips, and Tony felt his own blood start rising, almost fizzing in his veins, and he sucked in air through his nose and ran his tongue across Loki’s teeth, cold and sharp, the part of him he’d first compared to icicles and _not_ actually the more suggestive part, though Tony liked that too.

But he drew the line at outright groping Loki in company so he pulled away a little and tapped a last brief peck to Loki’s lips and settled back into his chair. 

Clint wiped his mouth on a napkin and eyed them appraisingly, almost containing his smirk. “Not bad. Six out of ten for technical merit, eight for presentation.”

Tony flipped him the finger with utmost maturity.

Steve was staring fixedly at his plate, very carefully spreading sauce over his roll again and again, ears bright red. “Yeah… Be glad Nat left early, huh?”

And just like that, the mood was gone.

Because it was all very well for them to be sitting here, laughing and joking and Loki fitting in, but two of the team were missing and it wasn’t supposed to be like that. They faced down terrorists and natural disasters and whatever was too much for anybody else to deal with, but it was Tony’s choice of partner that was pulling the team apart.

This wasn’t exactly an isolated incident. The whole past week had been a mess. Tony had missed the last training exercise due to being steadily fucked through the shower wall - when six foot plus of dripping wet, naked, horny demigod asked Tony to stay somewhere, Tony stayed - and Natasha tended to stop what she was doing and outright stare at them whenever they walked into a room. Tony hadn’t seen nearly as much of Bruce as he was used to, because Bruce didn’t like tense situations, even aside from what they did to his Hulk-out potential. Clint and Natasha weren’t talking much, maybe not at all, which put everyone on edge, and Tony knew firsthand what it was like to lose a friend that close and it sucked to hell that his actions had cost him Pepper but it _definitely_ wasn’t right that he was costing Clint Natasha as well.

And vice-versa. Because for all he disagreed majorly with Natasha’s choice of loyalties, Tony was responsible for making her make them, and he’d cost her Clint, too. 

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Hell. Just - dammit.”

Loki took Tony’s other hand in his, and rubbed little circles into the back with his thumb, steady pressure, chill seeping into Tony’s blood, dancing up his arm and curling around his heart. He wasn’t about to give Loki up, not even for the team, but there had to be something he could do to make things easier. It was a lot to ask of them, allowing Loki to move in like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t killed people they’d known and worked with and magically brainwashed Clint - even though Clint hadn’t really minded in the end - so there was no denying that they had the right to be a little leery of him.

But they’d got over the equally justifiable fear of Bruce losing control and killing them all. They’d trusted Clint even though most of them had only known him as Loki’s puppet, not to mention that even under SHIELD he’d once been one order away from shooting Thor. Tony had forgiven Thor’s thorough attempt to kill him when they’d first met, and Natasha stabbing him in the back-

_Don’t think about that, don’t, it’s too close to before-_

So Loki’s bad first impression fit right in. Was it really impossible for them to accept him, too?

Maybe. Tony forced his mouthful down, and it settled like lead in his stomach. Maybe it was impossible. Everybody had limits, and maybe Loki was over theirs. Natasha’s, definitely, and Bruce was still playing Switzerland, and it didn’t matter that Tony and Thor and Clint and Steve were okay with Loki - as long as even one person on the team wasn’t all right with this, it didn’t matter. They were a team, and they had to agree on things.

And even if Bruce were to come around, Natasha would _never_ see Loki the way Tony did. 

He wasn’t hungry anymore. And sitting around with only two-thirds of the team wasn’t as fun as it had been five minutes ago. “You know what? I’m-” What didn’t involve eating? “I’ve got work to do. I’m out.”

He pulled his hand from Loki’s and stood up and walked away. Where would Natasha have gone? He’d have to avoid wherever that was on his way to the workshop - he’d probably get himself murdered if he bumped into her now.

She’d have gone somewhere away from the main arterial corridors, where fewer people had a chance of seeing her; if he stuck to more traveled areas he’d make it to his lab alive.

How was it that he actually had to make those kinds of decisions?

He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Loki catching up, long graceful hurried strides, making his suit jacket ripple. “Stark?”

He looked away again, but gripped back when Loki came up beside him and re-folded their hands together. “I fucking _hate_ hurting these people, and the more I want you the more they get hurt.”

“Ah.” Loki’s tongue flicked over his lips wetly. “I’m sorry.”

Tony scoffed. “Like you care one way or the other about them.”

“I care about _you_. This distresses you, Stark, and I would not have it so.”

Tony sighed, and let himself break the team apart a little more, stepped sideways to drop his head against the inward-curving junction of Loki’s shoulder and chest. Their hands slipped apart so Loki could wrap that arm around his ribs and hold him in, nice and firmly, just the way he liked. “There’s got to be something I can do. I’m a genius, I’ve solved bigger problems than this before. Got to be something.”

He had to fix this. He’d fix the team, and he’d fix Pepper, and everything would be fine.

He planned to offer Pepper her own Tony, a copy Tony with the minor personality flaw of falling for morally ambivalent Norse gods removed; wouldn’t that take care of the team’s problems as well? Natasha hadn’t had a problem with Tony two weeks ago, and this second Tony would be that exact guy. 

She and Clint would make up, Bruce’d start hanging around the team again, Thor and Natasha would quit snapping over whether Loki was or wasn’t evil; people would all get along like they were supposed to.

Only Tony was now completely replacing himself. Pepper wanted somebody who wasn’t exactly him; by this analysis, the whole team did, too - the team as a team, because no matter how buddy-buddy Clint and Thor and Steve still were, the _team_ as a whole wasn’t. 

Was he really willing to remove himself completely from all these people? Did Tony really mean to give them the perfect teammate, and then just disappear? 

He’d never secretly crow over how adept Steve was with technology while mocking him about his inability to get into the right time period.

He’d never test-fire new arrows with Clint while Dummy played moving target for the non-lethal ones.

He’d never get poked in the ribs by Bruce as he tried to find what would make Jarvis go offensive-countermeasures on him.

He’d never see Natasha’s pleased expression as he presented her with new weapons that she could safely take on undercover missions.

He’d never hear Thor’s booming laugh and always feel a little bit better, no matter what was going on.

He’d lose all that - but hey, hadn’t he pretty much lost it _now?_ Bruce was in hiding and Natasha was being all Terminator, and his three other friends were just that, three friends, not the team.

Tony had to do this. The team had to stay a team, even if he couldn’t be a part of it, but considering what Tony had in exchange, he wasn’t coming out short. 

Because Loki was steering him down to the lab, no questions asked, arm strong and protective and cool around Tony’s body, his shoulder at the perfect height for Tony to tuck his head into, and he could still taste traces of Loki’s cooking and Loki’s kiss in his mouth. Tony had _this_ , and he’d miss his friends like hell, but he’d rather know that the team was whole and strong and happy without him than stand in the middle and watch it burn.

~

“Okay, for about the first time in my entire life, I now know exactly how rich I am.”

“Hm?”

Stark turned around from the screen of light at his fingertips and grimaced. “So I’m one of the wealthiest men on the planet, have been since, oh, forever, and I’ve never actually bothered to look at how much money I have because the answer is always _enough_. But if I’m ditching the whole public legal existence, the money goes with it, so I’m just siphoning off enough that we’ll never have to get off our asses for the next couple centuries or so.” He faced the screen again, and took a section between his fingers and expanded it. “This is how much I swept into Asgardian Tony’s account. Plus some stock in my company to keep topping that up.”

“Mm.” The number meant nothing to Loki, and Midgardian currency even less. A prince of Asgard had but to ask, and he would receive; all payment was handled by others. And, of course, Loki had a bad habit of stealing things when it was unacceptable for a prince to desire them. 

Here, Stark gave him everything.

Stark folded the light into itself, and it sank back into the table; he drew up another, this one a wide image of a forest. “How do you feel about mountains?”

“Mountains?”

“Yeah. I think I found us a house. Hideout. Evil lair, whatever. New Zealand - not that that means anything to you, but still - lovely country, other side of the planet, I own a green energy company down there - or, Stark Industries owns another company that owns _this_ one - anyway, I made it build me this retreat way up in the mountains, apparently it’s great, I’ve never actually bothered going there. Fully furnished, wired for Jarvis, hot tub, underground workshop, obviously. Sounds about perfect for retiring from reality. So.” He spun around again, and beckoned Loki over. “Mountains?” 

Loki crossed the space between them, and took Stark’s hand in his as he leaned closer to look at the image Stark had summoned. The forest was a strong, verdant green, trees thickly clustered over the slope of a sinuous mountainside - more like rugged hills by Asgardian standards, but tall enough. Not one road or clearing was visible, nothing but the trees; this was no place frequented by mortals. A home there would afford them privacy, even solitude, and time. 

“I always enjoyed the mountains. Before I…” Before he had learned why the thin air and the cold had never troubled him, had only been invigorating and strengthening; before he had learned that the snowy peaks were Asgard’s closest cousins to the wastes of Jotunheim. 

All the hints, in the open for him to see, and never _once_ had he suspected what he was.

But Stark was not reviled by him, even when the truth stood inescapable before his eyes. Perhaps… If there were any place Loki could learn not to shrink from the sight of his Jotun self, it was in the mountains alone with Stark. “Does it snow there?”

“If you’re in the right place. Which we are. Shouldn’t get too heavy right on top of us, but I’ll steal one of my tougher cars and we can drive up where it’ll be a little thicker, if you like.” Stark’s elbow thumped Loki in the side. “You’re going to kick my ass in every snowball fight, aren’t you, Icicle?”

Loki set both hands on Stark’s hips, and jerked their bodies together, his front to Stark’s back. “When you are Aesir, you will rival me for strength and speed. Exceed me, perhaps. Do not assume my victory. Perhaps it is you who shall throw me down in the snow, and you who shall claim your prize.”

“Ooh.” Stark shivered in Loki’s grip, and slowly pressed back into Loki’s chest; his hips started sliding from side to side over Loki’s, just lightly enough to almost be accidental, as if Stark could ever be unaware of his seduction. “Mountains it is.”

Loki could not feel the blazing heat of Stark’s skin through the layers of their garments; he spun Stark in his hands and captured his lips instead. They burned against his, soft and moist, and the corners twitched in a smile before they parted, and Loki slipped his tongue between them. Stark’s mouth was wet and hungry, teeth catching his tongue and pinning it in place to be ravaged by Stark’s own, setting fire to Loki’s flesh and running rivers of heat through his blood.

Stark’s hand locked around the back of Loki’s neck and held him still; their lips broke apart, and Stark leant his forehead against Loki’s as he gasped for breath. Loki grinned, and lifted a hand to catch under his chin. “Are you well? Or should I allow you to lie down and recover yourself?”

“Shut up,” Stark muttered, twisting fingers in the long hair at Loki’s nape and tugging sharply. “Too hot for your own good.”

“Surely that’s you, my fire,” Loki said, and just barely tapped their lips together to taste Stark once more. “I could melt at your touch.”

“That’s too bad, ‘cause I don’t think I can get my hands off you.”

“Oh, good.” Loki kissed him sharply, and moved to suck a mark into the firm line of his jaw, lips speared in a hundred places by Stark’s stubble. “I do so…” He sank lower, lifting a hand to pull Stark’s head to the side to bare his neck, and left another mark there, lips tingling with the force of it. “Love your hands.”

Loki pulled back, and ran a thumb over the glowing red circles he had left in Stark’s skin, one shadowed by the faint growth of beard, the other standing bright and clear above his throbbing pulse; Loki’s lips upon him for all to see, if any still doubted.

Stark chuckled, and gently probed around Loki’s thumb, and hissed as he hit the flushed skin. “Did you - you _did_. Cute.” His hand wrapped around Loki’s, and they rested there against his neck. “Indestructible god, I bet I can’t do this to you, huh?”

Loki sighed. “I doubt it.” It took a great deal to bruise him. Stark’s lips would have been sweeter than any of the other causes, had they had the strength.

Stark nodded, and then the corner of his lips sharpened in a grin. “Enjoy it while it lasts. ‘Cause when _I’m_ an indestructible god, you’re gonna have these everywhere I can reach.”

 _Oh._ Of course. Loki grinned back. “Be careful with your promises, Stark. This is one you will be _made_ to fulfill if you fall short.”

He shivered theatrically. “Save me from demanding Norse princes.”

“Ah-ah. No prince, I.” Loki raised his other hand, and brushed over Stark’s lips as if he could find the tracks of the beautiful lies that spilled from them. “I am cut off from both my kingdoms, lost both kings my fathers. No throne claims me as its son.”

No power, no realm, wanted him.

Stark arched an eyebrow. “Your mom’s a queen, dumbass.”

“A queen’s bastard, then. Still no prince.”

“Eh.” Stark’s lips twitched, struggling to keep from frowning darkly; he shrugged, and tipped his head back. “Cheer up. Kiss me again.”

Loki paused, and let his eyes bore into Stark’s. “Princes don’t take orders,” he said, and then gladly obeyed and pressed their lips together once more.

No prince, Loki. No kingdom, no throne, no father.

Stark. All was Stark, and all was well.

His tongue, thick and hot, thrust between Loki’s lips and ran over his teeth. Loki sucked on it gently, heightened the pressure on their lips, freed his hands to cup Stark’s rear and hold him against his own body. Stark gasped a breath, and laughed into the kiss, leaning his chest forward and twitching his hips back into Loki’s grasp. The arc reactor was a firm circle amid Stark’s flesh through the fabric of their shirts.

Stark’s hands laced through Loki’s hair, delicious pain flaring brightly as Stark pulled to the side, breaking the kiss and baring Loki’s neck to Stark’s lips, now, and his teeth, sharp lines of heat between soft warm brackets, and Loki breathed in the scent of him, warm metal and oil and sweat on skin. Oh, he was glorious, Loki’s love, perfect and fierce and bright and _hot._

“Burn me,” he gasped, and caught Stark’s head in his hands and held him where his lips devoured Loki’s collarbone. “ _Burn_ -”

“ _Sirs._ ”

“Not now, Jarvis,” no, not now, nothing but Stark-

“ _Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers requires your attention._ ”

“No,” Loki all but whimpered, fingers flexing in Stark’s hair - no, he could not take Stark from Loki, could not make him cease in his lovely work, no…

“ _It is urgent, sir_.”

Stark’s lips broke from Loki’s skin, and he snarled. “If that man cockblocks us _one more time -_ throw him up, Jarvis. Audio only.”

“ _Line open, sir_.”

“You could not possibly have called at a worse-”

“Save it, Tony,” Rogers’s voice snapped. “Timetable’s moved up.”

“Yeah?” Stark pressed a swift kiss to Loki’s pulse before retreating. “Okay, that’s…” Stark flipped Loki’s tie over his shoulder, and began to unbutton his shirt; ah, yes, Stark hungered for pleasure as much as Loki did, and he would not be denied again this day. Loki grinned, and combed his fingers through Stark’s hair. “That’s a thing. Tell me more.”

“Fury called me after you’d left. It’s the Chitauri weaponry. Our informant says their team’s just activated some of it. We need to stop this _now_ , before they learn enough to make new weapons for themselves.”

“Uh-huh.” Stark slid his hands beneath Loki’s open shirt, and let them roam across his bared chest, waves of fire caressing his skin. Loki groaned and leaned into Stark’s touch; Stark lifted a hand and pressed a finger to Loki’s lips, silencing him. “Plan?”

“We’re moving tonight. Come up and I’ll brief you.”

Loki scoffed. Rogers did not need Stark for hours, and thought he could steal him from Loki now? He tightened his grip on Stark’s hair, and leaned down to breathe in his ear. “I am not finished with you yet.”

Stark twisted Loki’s nipple sharply and Loki hissed at the flare of heat, punishment for his foolish doubt; Stark was not finished with him either. “I’m busy. How about I come up later? How’s later sound? _Much_ later?”

“What are you-”

“Look, I was _busy_ this morning, and I left anyway. I’m _busy_ now, but you’ve used up your goodwill for today, got that? You can brief me when I’m not _busy_.”

Rogers coughed. “Oh. Right. Just, um. Make sure you leave enough time. And - is Loki there?”

Stark rolled his eyes. “Christ, Steve, who do you think I’m _busy_ with?”

“Don’t blasph- never mind. Just ask if he’s willing to play ball with us on this. He knows the Chitauri. Could be useful.”

Stark shrugged, considering, and then offered Loki a grin. “How about it? Wanna intern as a hero?”

Did he want to pretend to share the Avengers’ aims instead of fucking Stark atop one of his work tables, holograms spinning around them? 

But nor did he desire to part from Stark again today, and Stark clearly meant to go.

A deal, then. “If you give us - three hours, _without_ interruption.”

Stark tipped his head jauntily. “Got that, Cap? I’m being _de_ _-_ briefed for the next three hours.” 

“Done. Um. Enjoy yourselves?”

Stark rolled his eyes again. “Don’t even try. Just put the phone down. No, you know what, let me help you with that. Jarvis?”

“ _Line closed, sir._ ”

“Make sure _nothing_ gets through for the next three hours, understood? And _you_ …” Stark wrapped a hand in Loki’s tie, and tugged. “Come with me.”


	5. Mission

He probably should have been a little more hesitant about dragging the Norse God of Mischief to bed by his _tie_ , but given the way Loki was grinning at him incessantly, Tony wasn’t going to get murdered for the impertinence. 

God, the things it did to him when Loki wore suits - he looked so fucking _pretty_ in them, all neat and professional and perfect, and Tony just wanted to bend him over the nearest hip-high thing and mess him up. The bastard even managed to avoid looking stupid with his shirt hanging open but his tie still on; he was just semi-debauched, and barely even semi with his hair still slick and straight, breathing composed.

_Not for long._

Tony fumbled the bedroom door open, flung it wide and pulled them through, then jerked Loki’s tie loose and threw it somewhere else. He wrapped a hand around the bare column of neck, tall and pale, and leaned in to bite at it, feel the thrumming strength lurking under Loki’s skin, the chill sharp against his teeth.

Loki tipped his head back, and his hands settled around Tony’s waist, fingers twitching at his shirt like he wanted to pull it off but couldn’t quite manage the coordination. Tony smirked, and brushed his hands away to pull the black suit jacket off Loki’s shoulders, and the shirt after it, and bent down to lick at Loki’s cold and firm chest. Loki gasped shakily, and turned it into a laugh halfway; Tony grinned and kept going, tracing the valleys between the toned muscles, tasting salt and skin and winter. He popped the button on Loki’s slacks and pulled the zipper down - carefully, Loki always went commando - and worked the fabric over Loki’s hips, and if he got a little groping in along the way then that was alright. Loki’s thighs filled Tony’s hands, muscles shifting as he toed his shoes and socks off, and then he lifted one leg to step free of the slacks and kicked them off the other foot. 

Tony straightened up and grabbed the biceps of his naked god. “On the bed.”

Loki arched an eyebrow with a smirk, and Tony pushed him backwards - Loki was totally letting him do it, but it had to be a lovely visual, Tony manhandling Loki across the room. Tony shoved Loki down onto the bed, and he landed with his arms splayed out, cock half-hard between his legs, black hair framing his face, gleaming green eyes demanding _more_.

Tony leaned over and ran a hand down the pale cool ripples of his chest. “Right, then.”

Loki writhed sinuously under his touch, back arched, and jerked his head to the side. “In the bathroom.”

Huh? “What the hell’s in the bathroom?”

“Go find out.”

Tony lifted his hand, and pointed his finger sharply between Loki’s eyes. “Don’t move.”

Loki laughed, low and sweet. “Where do you think I wish to go?”

Excellent question. No, stupid question. “Just stay there.”

Tony crossed the room, glancing back over his shoulder because just maybe Loki would choose now to fuck with his head, but he was still lying there, hands idly twisting in the sheets, and Tony swallowed - bathroom, Loki had _told_ him something was in the bathroom, he’d be pissed if Tony turned back around to ravage him now - and opened the bathroom door and stuck his head in.

There was a silver champagne bucket sitting on the vanity, lined with condensation, which was weird, and Tony got closer and looked properly. It was mostly full of melting ice swimming in water, and standing in the center was-

Tony plucked the dripping can of whipped cream from the water and grinned. And then dried it in a towel, very quickly, and tossed it in the air and caught it again. _Finally!_

He came back to find Loki had arranged himself a little more conveniently, spread out in the middle of the bed, legs not falling awkwardly off the edge anymore. One long pale hand was wrapped around his long pale cock, stroking slowly up and down, and he lifted his head and met Tony’s eyes and just smiled.

Tony almost couldn’t breathe. After everything, after beating him up when they’d first met and getting him in a shitload of trouble the second time, after Tony had nearly died and freaked out and shown every weakness, Loki was _still here._

And he wasn’t leaving.

“Damn, I love you.”

Loki’s smile turned into a smirk. “Then shut your gaping mouth…” He slowly thumbed the flushed head of his cock, and lifted his other hand and stretched it out to Tony and beckoned him closer. “And do something about it.”

Tony gripped the can and crossed the room again, and then _something_ shivered against his skin and his feet dropped an inch and his bare soles hit carpet, and he stared down at himself to see the last edges of his clothes disappearing under the shimmering gold wash of Loki’s magic, and then he was standing naked by the bed. “You know, I’d better get those back.”

“I make no promises.”

On the other hand, Tony could live without them.

Loki rolled up onto his side to run one fingertip down Tony’s chest and he shuddered at the cold, bright and clear and clean, and Loki trailed it lower and lower and then _everything_ was cold - Loki’s hand around his cock felt like he was holding Tony’s whole body, and Tony breathed and dug his nails into his thigh to break the pattern, to actually _feel_ Loki and not just ice.

Loki was stroking little circles all over his cock, fingertips spinning, swirling and dancing and sucking him down into the vortex, and Tony felt his pulse pounding against Loki’s hand, felt himself hard as a rock, and Loki gave a satisfied little hum and let go and turned down onto his front. The long lines of his legs stretched towards the foot of the bed, and he spread his arms out to the sides, head resting just below the pillows, muscles shifting under his skin. Tony swallowed, mouth dry, and his hand drifted out to brush over the pale wash of Loki’s back.

This was his. _This_. Was _his_.

“Still not sure I believe it.”

Loki sighed, and turned his head to meet Tony’s eyes and reached back and tangled their fingers together. “I’m not going anywhere, Stark. I am yours. Take this one truth from the lips of the liesmith.”

“Not doubting, Icicle. Really.” He balanced himself with a hand to the bed and leant down to kiss the bottom corner of Loki’s shoulderblade, Loki’s favorite spot on Tony’s body, and Tony could see why, could feel the perfectly-machined interlocking of his lips and the arch of Loki’s bone. “Just - enjoying. Glorying. Reveling. Whatever. I get to keep you. I know that. Let me blow my mind a little, huh?”

Because Tony Stark would believe anything, given half a chance and a stack of evidence, and he wasn’t the type to hang himself up on karma and what he deserved and what he’d earned - there was _nothing_ stopping him from seizing hold of Loki and offering up himself in return, and he had. It was just that last part that needed a little extra effort to accept. 

He’d done this. After all his failures and wasted efforts and _pain_ , he’d fallen in with a god almost, or more, tortured than he was; a heart already broken, so he knew it was strong enough to survive if he broke it again. Found the ice that reminded him he was still warm inside, still alive, still had blood beating through him - found somebody who’d never say he was wrong or stupid or weak because Loki knew exactly how and why none of those things were true. Found a genius with so much to teach him, entirely new aspects of nature that had never been explored by a human mind, opening up the universe for him and trading magic for physics back and forth. 

And that barely scratched the surface. Tony would _need_ practical-immortality to list the reasons he loved Loki.

“Have you blown your mind sufficiently, or should I find a blanket before I catch chill?”

Reason number one: attitude.

Tony whapped Loki on the back of the head, and snapped the lid off the cream and pressed the nozzle to the smirking corner of his lips. “Shut up. This might be a terrible gag, but I can try.”

Loki’s one visible eye glittered with challenge, and he slipped his tongue between his lips and licked them slowly before drawing the nozzle into his mouth and sucking.

Tony pressed down on the trigger and the can hissed, and Loki’s eye fluttered shut and he gave a pleased hum. Tony stopped and pulled it back, and watched Loki’s cheeks swell and then hollow and the roll of his throat as he swallowed, and when he licked his lips again his tongue was streaked with white and he was definitely smearing it deliberately around his mouth. He rippled an eyebrow, _what are you going to do about it?_

Tony put the can in the middle of Loki’s back and leant down to kiss him clean, running his lips all over Loki’s cold thin ones, pulling Loki’s tongue into his mouth and scraping it with his teeth, and then he sat up again and took a close look at his handiwork.

Loki’s cheeks were flushed and his lips were shining, but cream-free, and his eyes flickered open a moment later - uncoordinated, and hazy.

Good start.

Tony grabbed the can again, and moved to straddle Loki’s thighs, letting his balls and cock slip down into the cold, soft crevice between them, putting everything above Loki’s waist within reach of Tony’s mouth. He shook the can again and flipped it in his hand, and started with the classics, drew a thick white line down Loki’s spine.

He dropped the can in the sheets and leant down.

The cream was cool but warmer than Loki’s skin, a faint wind against a wall of ice, and Tony grinned and licked more up, tasting the rich sweetness of the cream and the salty tang of Loki’s skin under it. Loki’s spine rippled, bony knobs like a ridge of mountains, and Tony mouthed his way down, swallowing as he went - he was going to end this by blowing Loki, definitely, suck down cream and cock like his life depended on it and maybe it did.

Loki had turned his head to press his face into the bed, black hair curtaining him on either side, and Tony smirked at him, already on the edges of self-defense while Tony had barely gotten into gear. Loki’s shoulders were twitching with his breaths, hands fisted in the sheets, and Tony settled himself a bit more securely on Loki’s thighs, took up the cream and leaned forward again.

He outlined Loki’s shoulderblades, those beautifully kissable sculptures of bone, and ended up with deformed angel wings that did not suit an actual god at all, and this cream art thing was seriously harder than he’d expected. He put his hands in the mattress on either side of Loki’s ribs to support himself, and bent his head and ate the evidence of his terrible manual drawing skills. He closed his eyes and just let himself taste his work, and _that_ was fine; cream and Loki all over his tongue, the cream fluffy and slippery and Loki alive and firm under it, and then he finished that side and dragged his lips sideways until he hit more cream and started again there.

Loki was writhing under him, gasping faint strings of syllables into the sheets, and Tony went higher and higher and then Loki threw his head back and his hair streaked Tony’s face. “More, Stark, I need-”

Tony leaned forward and nipped at the lovely taut tendons in Loki’s neck. He could have played them like harpstrings. “Need what?”

Loki gave a shaking, defiant laugh. “You know what. Guess, if you do not.”

Tony hummed, and drummed his fingers on the bed, pretending to take a while to work out the obvious. “I’m thinking you’re wishing I’d flip you over and let you see me better, for starters. I know how much you love watching me touch you. You want me to play somewhere you can actually feel and might have a chance of making you come. You want to see my mouth bulging with your cock and this cream, and you’re not going to know which one I’m moaning at. Am I close?”

“Close,” Loki purred, and arched his back up to meet Tony’s chest, soothing and cool like silk and bouncing the faint vibrations of the reactor back into his ribcage, the remaining trails of the cream covering him in sticky patches. “Yet - imperfect.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony nuzzled Loki’s neck again, traced the sharp line of his jaw with his nose. “I missed some?”

He heard the faint, rough sound of Loki running his tongue over his teeth. “Mmm. Let me turn over.”

Tony set his knees down on either side of Loki’s body and lifted up, and Loki rolled in place underneath him, long body twisting and rucking up the sheets, and then he stopped with his toned white chest beaming the room lights back into Tony’s eyes and his trademark _god of getting-people-to-do-what-I-want_ grin daring him to keep going. 

Tony crawled forward and brushed their hard cocks together and sat down there, knees bent and calves pressed to Loki’s sides, feet just barely tucking under the swell of Loki’s ass. He lifted one hand and wrapped it around their cocks, and shivered at the contrast of warm and cold pressed together and trying to melt into each other, and Loki gasped and dug into the mattress with his shoulders and then shoved the can of cream into Tony’s free hand. “ _More._ ” 

Tony gave them both a squeeze and Loki keened, hips jerking under Tony’s, and Tony was throbbing and breathless but not quite gone yet, still floating in the sea of _good_ and nowhere near the tidal wave of _too good_ \- he had time to take this slowly. 

He let go and shifted his hips a little to keep up the contact, the electrifying touch of Loki’s cock against his own, a sparkling line of cold where they met. He spun the can in his other hand and took aim again, laid down lines of cream over Loki’s collarbones, filled the hollow of his throat. He leaned down and wrapped his lips tight around the bone and sucked, tasted sugar and salt and fat and Loki, and shifted sideways with little jumps to catch more cream. He could feel it sliding down his throat, smooth and easy, and when he finished that line he sat up and dipped his fingers into the other, spread it over Loki’s skin. He looked darker against the white of the cream, flushed pink, and then Tony wiped up his mess and sucked it from his fingers. They gave the cream a warm core, and he grinned and dabbled them in the pool at Loki’s throat and sucked that clean too.

Loki’s gaze hadn’t left Tony once, flickering between his eyes and hands and lips and down to his cock. Loki’s mouth was hanging open slightly, heavy breaths sliding over his lips, strands of black hair sticking to his face. Tony wiped his sticky hand off on Loki’s ribs and felt him shudder and then combed his fingers through that hair, combed it back from his skin and made it fan out around his head. 

He draped himself over Loki’s chest and ran his tongue along the black strands, delicious lines of cold, and shifted back a little to suck the last of the cream off of Loki’s throat. 

“I…” It could have only been a shaking breath, and Tony smirked to himself. Loki’s hand came up to press on the top of his head, guiding him to keep moving down. “I grow impatient.”

“Liar,” Tony said, going with Loki’s direction anyway, crawling backwards and trailing his lips over the flat planes of Loki’s chest as he went. “You grow greedy, that’s what.”

“No crime, surely, to want more of you.”

Tony chuckled, and nuzzled the hollow inside of Loki’s hipbone. “Yeah, I think I can forgive that.”

He grabbed the can up one last time, and spiraled a growing cone of cream around Loki’s cock, burying it completely. Loki moaned at the touch, hips rolling, trying to thrust into it and get some more contact, pressure, and Tony grinned only a little unkindly. 

He set his hands firmly on Loki’s hips - it didn’t stop him moving completely, but it _did_ stop him moving relative to Tony - and opened his mouth and came down. 

He closed his mouth around the peak and barely caught the tip of Loki’s cock with his lip, swallowed his mouthful of cream and moved lower. More cream brushed his lips but skin met his teeth, and Tony sucked slowly on the solid head and Loki hissed pleasure. Tony ate his way downwards, mouth filling with cream and cock; the cream slid around his mouth but Loki’s solid cold flesh didn’t move, just pushed back along his tongue as Tony went lower. Loki tasted salty and sweet and musky, now, and Tony pulled back a little and fitted his tongue against Loki’s slit to steal more of that taste.

“Don’t stop, don’t…”

Tony went down again, further, swallowed his mouthful and jerked with Loki as he bucked up against Tony with a shout. Down a little more, sucking more cream into his mouth and then he felt the head of Loki’s cock bump the back of his throat; he straightened out the angle and pushed down, took Loki in, relaxed into the aching pressure. Loki just kept going, the big familiar length of him, more and more, and then Loki’s hand wrapped around Tony’s throat with Loki’s cock inside it and Tony swallowed and felt Loki filling every scrap of space, the cream barely getting past. 

“Ah, _Stark_ …”

Tony worked himself down the last bit of length and then pressed his lips to the smears of cream over Loki’s groin, slipped his tongue down to tease, reached out and stroked the smooth hairless expanse of Loki’s skin laid out in front of him. Tony’s hands made Loki quiver in his mouth, and he brought his teeth down as he pulled up, scraped ever so slightly, and that made Loki’s breath hitch and catch in his chest. Tony sucked hard at the head and brought a hand down to roll Loki’s heavy cold balls between his fingers and squeezed.

Loki seized his head in both hands and held him still as his whole body shuddered and cold come flooded Tony’s mouth, Loki’s balls twitching in Tony’s grasp and his cock throbbing. Tony swallowed again felt distinctly full, pulled off and stretched out his tongue to lick Loki clean.

Loki’s hands eased up, and he started toying with Tony’s hair as he worked, fingers swirling over his skull. Loki was still hard, cold blood pumping, and Tony grinned and slid his tongue over the smooth skin, licked at the mingled cream and come, kept going until he tasted nothing but Loki, sucking up the last traces, and then crawled over Loki’s body to kiss his lips. 

Loki’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him down to lie flush against his cold, sticky chest, and his tongue slipped through his parted lips and pressed between Tony’s. Tony let him in and Loki hummed, tasting himself in Tony’s mouth, and Tony smiled and bit down lightly and pulled back. “That what you were hoping for?”

Loki inhaled slowly before opening his eyes, gorgeous green irises thin rings around the wide deep pools of his pupils, and he raised a hand to Tony’s cheek. “Almost.”

He reached out and retrieved the can of cream, and held it up and lifted an eyebrow full of promises - yeah, Loki would make way prettier drawings than Tony had - and then he set it aside and held Tony carefully against his chest as he sat them both upright. “I intend to ride you.”

“Oh, god, _yes_.” 

Loki grinned sharply and shoved Tony off his lap - Tony's back hit the mattress and sent shocks through his body. He blinked his eyes back open to see Loki rise up a little on his knees and bring a hand around behind himself, and there was no way Tony was going to miss that show.

He shot up to his knees, too, and wrapped his hand around the side of Loki’s neck to brace himself and leaned forward to look over Loki’s shoulder.

Loki’s hand was buried between his ass cheeks, long fingers twisting himself open, and when they pulled back they were glistening with the magically-summoned Asgardian lube Loki preferred whenever he still had the mental capacity to make the spell work.

Tony kissed Loki’s neck without moving his eyes. “Mmm, that’s lovely. Watching you open yourself up for me. You all desperate for me.”

“Desperate?” Loki laughed, making his body shake against Tony’s. “I have been satisfied. This is generosity.” He gave a last thrust of his fingers and pulled them back. “Lie down.”

Tony fell back and closed his eyes, and jerked at the cold wet vice of Loki’s hand around his cock, stroking him hard and covering him with slick lube. He felt Loki shift his weight to place a knee on either side of Tony’s body, and then the cold ring of Loki’s asshole around the tip of his cock and Loki rocked his hips slowly, circling him, and he leaned back and then up straight again, too fast to be teasing- “What are you-”

“Shh,” and then something hard and cool ran over Tony’s lips and he tasted a fleck of cream - Loki was playing with the can, and Tony grinned and kept his eyes shut because this was much more fun. “Stop thinking, Stark, and let me have you.”

Tony lifted his hands and slid them up Loki’s smooth, strong thighs. “Yours.”

Loki lifted one of Tony’s hands and the can hissed and a cool, light line of cream appeared on Tony’s wrist, crawling down the inside of his arm to his elbow, and then Loki’s cold lips followed it, opening wide over his skin and closing down to trap the cream, eating him clean. 

And Loki rocked down and took an inch of Tony’s cock in, wrapped him in tight pulsing cold, sharp and thrilling and perfect. Loki sprayed another line of cream, and started licking at that one, cool sweeps of his tongue, and sank an inch lower on Tony’s cock, and did it all _again_ , covered Tony in waves and waves of cold and touch.

Then Loki’s ass pressed flush to Tony’s hips and he twisted a little to take Tony’s cock as deep as it would go, and trailed the cold metal edge of the can up Tony’s chest and circled the reactor. The can disappeared and both of Loki’s hands settled high on Tony’s chest, fingertips hooked over his collarbones, and Loki started moving.

His hips surged forward and back over Tony’s, battering pressure around his cock, skin sliding over skin, and Tony arched up against Loki’s weight to feel _more_. Loki laughed and had mercy, gave him what he wanted, rocked faster and harder and then clenched down around him, tight and close and all but fusing them together, and Tony groaned and grabbed Loki’s hips, fitted his thumbs against the bones, let Loki drag him along for the ride.

“Ah, yes, there we are,” Loki said, breathy. “I see it. I’ve fucked all thought from you. _Good._ ” He lifted up an inch, let the warm air wrap the base of Tony’s cock before slamming back down savagely and Tony almost broke under the torrent it poured into his balls and brain. “That is exactly how it should be. This is where you belong, bare and filthy and spread out for my pleasure.”

Loki’s hands didn’t move but cream covered Tony’s lips anyway, and Loki leaned down and his weight shifted to Tony’s shoulders and then Loki’s lips were on his, sucking up the cream hungrily before kissing him and lifting away again, hovering just above him. 

“Oh, it’s kind of me to ever let you go anywhere else - you are fortunate your mind and work enthrall me as much as they do, or I’d keep you chained here, ready and waiting for me.”

Tony gasped, reached for coherence through the swirling fog of need under his skin. “Like you’d ever leave.”

Loki laughed, and lifted up again and squeezed just the head of Tony’s cock and slid down slowly, tight and cold and slick. “Ah, I have been found out. My secret exposed. Shall I chain us both, then? Shall we never leave this bed?”

His long, cold fingers wrapped Tony’s wrists - yeah, chains. “Say yes, Stark,” he pleaded, no joking now. “Tell me there’s nothing out there we care for. Tell me we can stay here and never face the realms again.”

Tony twisted his hands in Loki’s grasp, let go of his hips to grab Loki’s wrists in return. “You and me. Nothing else.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yeah.”

Loki bent down again and kissed him gently, and Tony felt a cold raindrop tear fall to his cheekbone. Loki’s lips were soft and sweet and cool, and Tony freed a hand to cup the back of his head and hold him still, hold them together.

Loki broke their lips apart and pressed his forehead to Tony’s. “You make me foolish. I weep with you buried inside me. Foolish.”

He drew in a sharp breath and arched himself back upright, rocked up, pushed down, all cold and slick, and he started moving faster, dragging Tony towards the edge. Loki reclaimed his hand and linked their fingers together, and rode him hard and fast, hips surging, ass tight around Tony’s cock, taking him to the hilt. Tony gasped and bent his knees and braced his feet in the bed to get some leverage, and thrust up against Loki’s weight. He dropped himself into Loki’s cold embrace and let Loki hold him, carry him higher, blood racing through their bodies, and then Loki squeezed his cock and his hands and Tony broke and came like a shot, sudden and loud and hard, and gasped for air, wrung out with the force of it, and felt the warmth of his come around the head of his cock - and the cold of Loki’s splashed over his stomach.

He lay there breathing, pinned under Loki’s weight, pleasure settling lightly along his nerves. Loki lifted both of Tony’s hands to his mouth and kissed them, one and then the other, and rose up on his knees and let Tony slip from his body. He flopped to the bed beside Tony, and Tony rolled over and finally opened his eyes to take a look.

Loki was on his back, face turned towards Tony’s, flushed and sweating, hair tangled and starting to flick up at the bottom, nowhere near the composure he’d had before Tony had ravished him. The green of his eyes was glowing but the whites were flushed red with his tears, and Tony felt a little chill that had nothing to do with Loki’s lovely temperature creep around his heart. 

“You okay?”

Loki arched an eyebrow. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Like you said, you don’t normally cry when we fuck. Something up?"

Loki twitched his lips in a complete anti-smile. “I have had a trying day. My heart sits naked in my chest. Raw. Vulnerable where it would not usually be.”

“Ah. That’s what I call the statistical fact that the more recently you’ve cried, the more likely you are to do it again.” Math and magic. And he had _both._

And things to cry over - duties and debts and people, and a whole life beyond this room and this god. Tony’s eyes slipped closed like that would actually take it all away.

“You know we can’t do it,” he murmured. Maybe Loki wouldn’t hear him, maybe Tony wouldn’t hear himself, maybe they wouldn’t have to admit it. “We can’t just lock ourselves in and pretend nobody else exists. Not yet.”

“I know.” Loki sighed. Tony opened his eyes to meet Loki’s, steady and green and sad. “You have your friends. Your Pepper. And I…”

“Thor?”

“Always. But that is not the trial. I yet have need of another.” Loki gritted his teeth and Tony tensed - tried to tense, but he was too fucked-out to manage it - and then Loki sighed again and relaxed, so there probably wasn’t any immediate problem and Tony didn’t have to do anything about it just yet.

Loki sat up, facing away, and stretched his long arching spine out and reached back to take one of Tony’s hands. “Come. Bathe with me.”

“Huh? No.” Get up? Like that was happening, Tony felt limp and boneless and was perfectly happy where he was. He tugged at Loki’s grip; he didn’t let go. “I’m not moving.” 

“Do you wish to stick to your chair throughout the captain’s briefing?” 

“Ha ha, I didn’t get cream on my _ass_.”

Loki twisted and leaned down, spilling silky hair over the side of Tony’s face, and whispered in his ear. “That can be remedied. If you bathe with me now.”

“Ah. Right. I guess I can put up with that.”

Loki sat back up. “Oh, if it’s an imposition, I am perfectly content-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Icicle.”

Loki’s lips stretched into a grin, and he stood up and pulled Tony with him. 

~

“Remind me why I agreed to let you leave our bed, and drag me with you.”

“Because I’m needed to shut down the Chitauri tech and you’re needed to tell me how.”

“And remind me why I care about that.”

“I asked nicely. You remember, I did that thing with my-”

“Ah, yes. You are a master of persuasion.”

“So, do you think you’re going to need persuading to stay on task?”

“It is entirely possible.”

Steve groaned softly as he massaged his temples. Asking Loki for help had seemed like a fine idea at the time. It gave Loki a chance to do some good, and Steve could see whether he could really be trusted. If things didn’t work out, nothing much would be lost: however he felt about the mission, Loki wasn’t dumb enough to risk compromising it and therefore Tony.

But Steve hadn’t known that Tony and Loki would do nothing but flirt for the entire operation. Steve had been stuck listening to them since they’d boarded the quinjet half an hour ago. Clint, who was putting up with watching them, too, had the patience of a saint.

Thor and Bruce, in the tower’s command room with Steve, only seemed amused. Well, nothing much could upset Bruce, and Thor had been dealing with Loki for his whole life. 

Maybe Natasha hadn’t been sour after all when she’d refused to have anything to do with collaborating with Loki. Maybe she’d only been saving her skin.

Still, Steve probably should have been grateful. Loki was perfectly capable of taking himself and Tony back to the tower at any time. At least for now, he was indulging Tony. If rampant flirting over the comms was the price, Steve could cope.

He’d just have to trust that Tony wanted this enough that Loki would keep going along with it. Tony’s conscience was doing double-time for the both of them.

But Steve didn’t have a better plan, and the sooner they shut this down, the better. 

It felt wrong to be going up against his own side like this, though. Covertly breaking into a SHIELD base in the middle of the night wasn’t how the Avengers were meant to do things. The guys working on this project weren’t trying to take over the world. They were only following orders. They were SHIELD - they were on the _same side._

But Steve had orders, too, directly from Fury’s mouth. _Put this in the ground, Captain, and don’t let anything come back to haunt us. I want everything that’s even been touched by an alien out of the Council’s reach._ Everything Steve had seen made him agree with Fury’s caution. These weapons were too dangerous to leave in the wrong hands. 

Actually taking them would attract notice, though. Not to mention that Steve didn’t think Fury’s hands were any better. Which was why he’d come up with this: Tony, and Loki, the experts in Chitauri weaponry, breaking in overnight and quietly sabotaging everything, with Clint as backup and pilot.

“I still don’t see why we do not simply destroy this place.”

“Because then we’d have the Council on our asses,” Clint told Loki. “And believe me, that’s the last thing we want. Fury’s bad enough. Nobody’s allowed to know we were ever here.”

There was the wet sound of somebody kissing somebody else’s cheek. “Because I told you we can’t,” Tony said. “I don’t want Steve on my ass, either, so we’re playing nice.”

Steve sighed. One day, Tony would respect him as a commander. One day.

“Ah,” Loki said. “You tore us from our bed, with half the cream still left, so that you can avoid a lecture from a man decades younger than you. Yes, this is the noble spirit that guides Midgard’s heroes. Whose bed has Captain Rogers frightened you away from, Barton?”

“My own,” Clint said. “Unlike Tony, I do this thing called sleeping.”

“Sleeping is for people who don’t have gods to fuck. And trust me, once you go Norse you never go back.”

“Less chatter,” Steve broke in, though what he meant was _less flirting._ Was a tiny scrap of professionalism too much to ask? Couldn’t they at least keep the details to themselves? Bad enough that he’d already had to see Loki _naked_ this morning. He didn’t want to know what they’d been up to before he’d knocked. _Please, God, don’t let them say any more about the cream._

“Oh, Captain, _this_ disturbs you?” Loki sounded nothing but amused. “Ask Thor about the dinner with the Vanir ambassadress, and see if you still consider _my_ conduct inappropriate.”

Steve glanced over to Thor; he’d flushed red. “Loki, you swore you would never mention that night again!”

“Oh, did I,” Loki said unrepentantly. “What a liar I am. How dreadful of me to think you’d learned not to trust me.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Thor and pulled his glasses off. “Do you want to share with the class?”

Thor folded his arms, and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “It is _not_ my fault that she broke off the treaty the next day.” He leaned towards the screen. “You were not immune to her charms, either, brother!”

Tony cackled. “Ooh, Frosted Flakes has a back catalog!”

“It was my duty to escort her to the banquet hall,” Loki said, suddenly stiff. “In the midst of polite conversation, I merely told her she looked… well.”

Tony scoffed. “You’re supposed to be a better liar than _that_. Look, spill, and I’ll tell you about the night I had with the entire senior football squad, cheerleaders included.”

There was a sharp noise, like Loki had slapped one of Tony’s hands away. “I said she looked radiant. With perhaps a little more sincerity than flattery.” He huffed. “It is nothing but good policy to make ambassadors feel welcome. None can fault _my_ actions. But it is _not_ good policy to proposition them during the state banquet, _Thor!_ ”

Thor was smirking now, unashamed. “She said yes. I defy any man not to envy me that night. The lady was most fair, and wise beyond her years. She was proud and arrogant as all Vanir are-”

“Nothing like you,” Loki said sarcastically.

“But she was also a most generous and skilled lover."

“Oh! Truly nothing like you, after all.”

This had gone far enough. Now was about the time for Steve to step in and tell everybody that they were professionals on the job. But on the other hand, Thor and Loki were rebuilding their friendship. Thor had really missed Loki, before everything had changed. Steve didn’t want to wreck this for him.

And he didn’t want Tony to blame his interruption on his ‘naive virgin sensibilities’, either.

“Loki!” Thor almost shouted. It would have been more menacing if he hadn’t been grinning like a loon. “Cease mocking me at once, or I shall tell Stark of what you did with the squad of guardsmen and the barrels of-”

“ _One_ more word about that week,” Loki hissed, “and you’ll find your tongue ripped from your head!”

“Week?” Tony said gleefully, completely uncowed by Loki’s anger.

“Whatever Thor says, I intended the spell to have that effect, and only three men needed a healer when we were done.”

Tony and Clint gave snorting laughs. Even Bruce chuckled, without a trace of irony or bitterness, and nodded in what almost looked like admiration. Steve just dropped his head into his hands. It _was_ good that Loki was fitting in. Even the subject matter was nothing new. The Avengers did this sort of thing all the time. But…

That was the problem. He’d been pleased as punch to be given command of SHIELD’s most elite unit, but from that description, he’d been hoping for a little more discipline.

It was times like this he most missed the Commandos. They’d be laughing down at him right now. _You expected discipline from this lot?_

Clint coughed to recover himself. “Is Nat there?”

Steve glanced between Bruce and Thor. Thor was grinning, and Bruce was smiling and at ease. But no-one else was with them. Steve’s stomach sank at the reminder. Loki might have been fitting in alright with the people present, but that didn’t mean the team was okay. “No.”

“Right, so I can say this without mysteriously dying in three months. About a year ago, Nat went undercover in this strip club in Amsterdam. Her cover identity still gets fanmail an- wait, hold up.”

Steve actually relaxed at the idea that something was going on. Maybe people would finally start taking this seriously. “What is it, Hawkeye?”

“Guys, over here. I think this is it.”

For a few moments, there was silence apart from their breathing. Steve found himself breathing with them. If they’d really found where the Chitauri equipment was being stored, this was where things got complicated. They could get away with playing innocents while wandering the corridors, providing they weren’t recognized, but once they broke into a secure room it would be clear that they weren’t just staff going home late.

“Yeah, looks like. See the way it says _secret Chitauri laser gun hoard_ on the door? That’s a good hint.”

Steve blinked. “It doesn’t really, does it?”

“ _No_ , Captain Obvious,” Tony said. “That was something we call sarcasm. Don’t worry, though, Thor doesn’t get it either.”

Thor outright laughed. “I was raised with Loki, and you think I know not the tricks of a wily tongue?”

“It doesn’t stop you from falling for them.”

“That’s enough,” Steve said. This _was_ mission time, now. “You’ve reached your target. Focus.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said. “Door’s open. Let’s go.”

They fell silent again. Steve could picture them moving around the room, working out how much was there, and if it really was Chitauri equipment. He wished they could have had video as well as audio, but there was too great a risk that they would be caught. Any SHIELD employee might reasonably wear an ear radio; very, very few carried miniature cameras in their clothes. They needed to stay under the radar as much as possible.

“This is Chitauri gear, alright,” Tony said. “Jackpot. Clint, go find me a torch and every tool in this place.” 

“Gotcha,” Clint said, and started jogging. 

“Loki, recognize anything?”

“Most of it,” Loki said. “Nothing of great concern. These weapons are not to be ignored, but nor are they among the more powerful of the Chitauri armaments.”

“Yeah, agreed. It’s basically those arm-mounted guns and the long rifles, Cap. Some armor. No grenades yet. Couple things that might be bits of scooters, but it doesn’t look like they’ve got enough to make up a whole one. With magic, shouldn’t take us more than an hour to bust it all. I’m going to check out that back room.”

Steve groaned. He fully agreed with Tony’s insistence that he wasn’t a soldier. A soldier would have passed on this relevant information earlier. “There’s a back room?”

“Oh yeah,” Tony said casually. “Looks like they’ve got more stuff than’ll fit in here, so they’re using this extension. Nothing serious. I’ll take a look.”

Steve heard Tony muttering to himself as he picked the lock on the second door. In contrast, Loki didn’t say a word, just walked slowly around the room, footfalls slow and quiet. Clint’s breaths and steps were coming faster. Still heading towards somewhere he could find what Tony needed.

“I’m in,” Tony said. “Looks like I was right. Just shelves with a lot of ugly-”

“Stop! Hands up!”

Steve’s heart lurched. “Stark! Barton!”

Then there was the sharp, sickening sound of breaking bone, and a thump as something heavy hit the floor.

Steve’s whole body went cold. “What’s going on? What happened?”

Thor and Bruce were leaning in close beside him. Thor’s grip on Mjolnir was so tight the leather was squeaking. “Brother?”

“Call in!”

“This is Hawkeye, I’m fine, wasn’t me. Stark?” 

Tony exhaled, calmly, but it sounded forced. “I’m fine. So’s Loki. We’re both fine. But, uh. Did we have a plan for hiding a body?”


	6. Recovery

Clint landed the quinjet on the tower’s helipad and killed the engines, and Tony peeled himself out of Loki’s arms even though all he wanted was to stay right there.

_How many times? How many times must I almost lose you?_

_But you didn’t. You won’t. I promise._

He could make all the promises he wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that Tony had been a finger’s twitch away from death yet again, or the fact that it had been a SHIELD agent on the other end of the gun - yet again. At least he wasn’t shaking anymore.

He pushed himself up to his feet, and took a step towards the lowering back hatch without falling over, which was nice considering that Loki had had to carry him out of the facility. He just didn’t like guns pointed at his face, okay, especially when he wasn’t wearing the suit - this was why he’d invented it, to keep himself safe, and what did he think he was doing out of it?

What the hell was he doing _outside_ at all, because he had more important things to think about than himself, _nobody_ deserved to live through Loki losing Tony for good. Yes he was strong, and yes he could take care of himself, and yes he had a lucky streak a mile wide and always came out okay - that didn’t mean he shouldn’t hole up somewhere until Loki swung the Asgardian gig for him, because if anything went wrong…

But nothing had, he was okay, still, and he’d just make sure he didn’t leave the tower again until it was safe, until _nothing_ could happen and a bullet would just be an annoyance instead of a death sentence - _can’t die yet, not now, can’t leave Loki-_

“Iron Ass, you’re blocking my exit.”

Loki’s hiss was right by Tony’s ear. “Barton, I swear-”

Tony blinked, and found himself standing in the middle of the quinjet like an idiot, Loki looming protectively over one shoulder and Clint tapping his foot behind him. “Yeah,” he said, cutting Loki off. “Thanks.”

He stepped to the side, taking Loki with him, and Clint waved as he headed past. “Good luck.”

Tony grimaced. He’d need good luck to deal with Steve. 

_What body? I said no casualties!_

_Did you wish Stark to be one such, Captain? No? Then this man’s death was fair price._

Only apparently it wasn’t. Loki had nicked Tony’s earpiece and crushed it under his boot when Steve’s objections had gotten a little too loud and constant, not to mention that he’d kicked both Bruce and Thor out of the control room to rant at them in private.

_These are SHIELD agents! They’re on our side!_

_Why didn’t you take a proper look in that room? How could you get ambushed like that?_

_An innocent man is dead!_

“And it’s all my fault, I know, I know,” but Tony couldn’t bring himself to care about it, it sucked to be the dead guy but it would’ve sucked to be dead Tony more, and this was what happened when directors and councils had their stupid power struggles, the little people got crushed in the middle and all Tony could do was keep him and his safe, he couldn’t protect _everybody_ or he’d kill himself trying, and no matter what he’d done that wasn’t the way to pay his debt back-

_Except when it’s the only option, there’s a missile headed straight for the city-_

Tony blinked again, and he was in the elevator heading up to the communal levels, Loki’s worried face hovering in front of him. “Stark?”

“That’s me. I need coffee and I need some time in the lab, need to fix up the fine dexterity in the suit gloves,” because this wouldn’t have happened if he’d been able to work while in the suit, everything would have been fine, he had to fix the problem before it got any worse and Loki couldn’t save him next time.

“Of course,” Loki said, and kissed his forehead and straightened up again, and Tony smiled because somebody actually trusted him to take care of himself, to believe that Tony knew what he needed, wasn’t forcing him to take a shower and sleep just because that was what everybody else would have done. He rubbed the cold patch of Loki’s kiss into his skin.

The elevator doors opened and Tony stepped out, Loki shadowing him across the room, and they were almost through when there was a third set of feet behind them and Steve’s voice. “I need a word.”

Loki snarled. “You’ve had plenty. I should be recanting them now, if I were you.”

“Tony?”

Tony wanted to bang his head against something and maybe knock himself unconscious so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. Only he did have to, because even if he asked Loki to teleport them both somewhere very, very much _elsewhere_ Steve would follow, and he wouldn’t let it go until he’d had it all out. “Okay.”

“Stark-”

Tony waved Loki off. “It’s okay. Go. And please actually go, this time.”

Loki paused, and then brushed past Tony and pushed through the doors and kept going down the hall. Tony watched the slight swing of his black suit coat around his knees, the graceful strides of his long legs, until Loki stopped at the end of the hall and turned back. He pressed his hand flat over his heart, and then swung that hand out flat towards Tony. _Yours._

Tony smiled, weakly, but it was the best he could manage, and lifted a hand and caught Loki’s gesture in a loose fist, and held it against his lips. 

He needed the strength that gave him. Needed the conviction. _At least somebody’s glad I’m alive._

_I’m alive, and Steve won’t make me regret that._

He’d done worse than this, worse than disappointing the paragon of all virtue, his father’s friend and hero and idol and god knew what else, and anyway, it was already over, really, nothing Steve could do would put Tony back in that annex, surrounded by alien weapons and staring at the night guard they’d left in there to catch him.

He was safe from everything except the waves of Steve’s stupid boring _do better next time_ lecture, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t had those before.

Loki had disappeared into the stairwell when Tony hadn’t been looking, so he sucked in a breath and turned around and faced Steve for the first time.

He was frowning, arms folded across his chest, not even pretending to be glad that Tony was back. 

“Okay, get it out there.”

“Get it-” Steve shook his head and glanced away, like he couldn’t bear Tony’s existence anymore, like he really should have died in that storage room instead of the SHIELD agent. “Tony, I’m not here for the fun of it. This isn’t a routine debriefing. You know that.”

“Know what I know? Loki saved my life, and I’m glad he did. That’s it.”

A muscle leapt in Steve’s all-American jaw. “Loki disobeyed my orders,” he gritted out, turning back and prodding the air between them with a finger. “He accepted my command on this mission, and then he disobeyed me anyway. He can’t be trusted.”

“ _That’s_ what you’re pissed abou-”

“He could have done anything! He’s got magic, so why didn’t he use it? He could have stolen the gun. Knocked the fella out. Gotten you away. But he didn’t. He did the _one_ thing that gives us a problem now.”

“Oh, like getting caught breaking into a SHIELD facility wouldn’t have given us a problem,” Tony scoffed, because Steve had emphasized that just as much as the _no killing_ bit - that this was treason, and mutiny, and they couldn’t get caught in any way, shape, or form. And then they had, and they’d had to hide the evidence of that - disarranging a couple of pieces of equipment at the top of the shelves, and laying the body below it next to the chair, like he’d been climbing up to reach something and fallen badly and broken his neck that way instead.

And Tony had gone ahead and opened up the Chitauri weapons and sabotaged them and sealed them up again, worked because that was what had been important and hadn’t even touched Loki once because he’d been working too. Tony had kept himself together until he’d finished and _then_ had quietly gone to pieces in a corner about the latest near-death experience, _gun-gun-gun this is it please no_ , and had let Loki pick him up and carry him to the quinjet and hold him while Clint had flown them back, slowly, giving Tony time to pull himself together.

_But it’s over. I’m safe._

“Here’s the thing, Cap - it’s done. It’s done, it’s in the past, you know all about the past,” said very deliberately, maybe he could rile Steve into storming off and leaving him alone. “Can’t change it now.”

“That’s not the _point_. The point is that you told me Loki could be trusted, and he can’t. Natasha was right.”

“Nat - you said she was being unreasonable just yesterday!”

Steve frowned. “That was when I thought Loki would at least listen to you, that you could control him-”

“ _Control_ him? Are you - you are kidding me here, right, because-” Tony had to stop, had to laugh, it was just that _stupid._ “You think I’m dumb enough to try _controlling_ him? Remember what he did to the last people who told him what to do? Oh, yeah, just wiped their species off the map - and guess what, I came _this_ close to doing it for him. You really want to tell him there’s a new set of rules for him to follow?”

“Yes! Tony, he _killed_ someone, and I can’t just let that go! I trusted him when I shouldn’t have. And an innocent man is dead-”

“ _I don’t care!_ ”

That stopped Steve in his tracks, and about _fucking_ time he thought about this, about what he was saying, what he was _asking_ \- god, the _idea_ of Tony putting Loki on some kind of leash like an animal - Tony felt almost sick with rage, the hot tangle in his guts, screaming inside his head, and this was going to stop, he wasn’t having any of this, this wasn’t what he was about.

Someone was dead. It wasn’t Tony. End of story.

Steve’s face went from anger to calm fury. “I thought you were trying to pay back a debt. I thought you owed lives.”

He _dared-_

“I flew into _outer space_ with every expectation of not coming back, and I saved the _entire population_ of this city. If that doesn’t balance the scales, then _nothing will_ , and I am _done._ ”

_I am done!_

And - yes.

Yes, he was.

He was completely, utterly done with this situation, not just Steve, the _entire_ cesspit that had been the tower this week, all the tension and the backstabbing and the doubt and ruining everything he’d wanted out of life, he was _done_ with paying these kinds of prices - he and Steve hadn’t fought like this since day one, it felt like sliding backwards down a cliff - he was going through with his plan, he was grabbing Loki and leaving somebody else to deal with this mess. 

Even if that somebody was just another version of himself.

But Tony Stark - _this_ Tony Stark, right here, Loki’s fire - he was done.

He turned on his heel and walked away, out, and maybe Steve shouted after him or maybe it was just Tony’s ears ringing, but it didn’t matter - he wasn’t taking Steve’s awful anger and wasn’t dealing with any of the Avengers right now - his lab, that was what he needed, privacy and quiet and maybe a hug.

No, he didn’t need a hug, he was Tony Stark and Tony Stark didn’t have stupid feelings like needing a hug. A hug wouldn’t make this better - solving the problem would. He was stronger than this, better, and everything would be fine, they’d see, he’d fix everything like he always did and nothing would have to change, nothing would break - he wouldn’t have broken them.

_Fix this._

Fix everything.

And leave. Leave before he could make things any worse.

He had a plan, had a new house, had a god to save him again - kick that last part into gear, and they’d be gone.

There was a hiss from somewhere in front of him and he looked up to see the workshop doors sliding open for him, and he sighed and walked through and they shut and locked him in, just like he needed.

“Stark?”

Tony waved a hand vaguely in Loki’s direction, that was convenient, everything Tony needed together in one place, and he sat down on the nearest stool.

“God…” He put his head down on the table, cool glass to chill off the raging storm inside his brain. “Come touch my head. Cold hands, please, really cold…”

Loki’s footsteps paced over, jerkily out of time with the pulse throbbing against Tony’s skull, and then Loki’s fingers slipped through his hair and settled on his temples. Tony shifted them a little, right over the worst pain, and sighed as the cold sank through his skin. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“What ails you?”

“Steve. Everything.” Yeah, everything, everything he was trashing in order to be with Loki, all the consequences piling up on top of him and refusing to go away - so he had to run, instead, he had to get this right before it was too late to fix it. “Look, can we - the switch thing, the immortal me and the mortal number two, can we do that now? Or soon, very soon, soon is good.”

“Stark…”

“Really, really soon - because they’re breaking, Icicle, I’m breaking them all and it’s getting _worse_ \- remember Steve, second-chances benefit-of-the-doubt Steve who was willing to put up with you? Yeah, not so much anymore. Apparently it’s _my_ fault that you killed somebody actively threatening me and saved my life and this is a _bad thing_.”

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologize, don’t, you did nothing wrong, it’s just _him_. It’s just nobody wanting us but _us_ and god, am I starting to feel it.”

This had to stop. The infighting, the distrust, the daggers looked at him across rooms - it all had to stop before there was nothing left of the Avengers.

So Tony, and Loki, were going to stop it.`

“Magic, Loki, tell me about the magic. Spark me up.”

Loki sighed, and pulled his hands off and walked away slowly. “I fear it is not that simple.”

Tony planted both hands on the table and pushed himself upright; pain hammered at his temples, but he bit his lip and Loki’s hands had left enough cold to linger, so he was okay for now, still felt like Loki was touching him. “What’s wrong?”

Loki had stopped a little ways away, facing the far wall, both hands clasped behind his back in a white-knuckled grip, spine ramrod straight, every muscle outlined with tension beneath his suit. “I cannot do it.”

Tony almost laughed relief; was that all? “Can’t? Icicle, you’ve only been working on this for a week, we’re got time. I’ll wait until it’s possible, I’m not expecting you to pull it off right this second. But even I give stuff more than a week before I call it quits.”

“It is not a matter of time, it is a matter of how my magic works. I have to think it through, have to see and understand it whole before I can begin. Magic is…” He paused, and turned his head to the side a little, not enough to see Tony, just getting a different view like that would help him think. “The cosmos is lazy, do your people know this?”

“Principle of least action? I think that’s what you’re saying - everything always happens in the easiest way, weakest point breaks first, kind of thing?”

“Yes. You asked me if magic is change, and I told you that was close enough. And it is. But it works by forcing the universe to do things another way, a harder way. And the sorcerer must show it how, must convince it that this thing can be done, or it simply will not bother.”

Tony gaped, literally, he could feel his mouth hanging open and his mind blown wide. Making the universe work harder? _Showing_ it how because he _understood_ how? Loki was manipulating the space-time continuum _in his head?_ If magic was change - change against the principle of least action - was that _anti-entropic?_ All those tiny little applications like holding the shrapnel in Tony’s chest still, the human - Asgardian - glamour he wore, all of that was _acting against the foundations of physics?_

Well, yeah, Tony had _known_ that, that was kind of the point of magic, but the idea that Loki was doing it all out of his head, every single time… that was…

It was beautiful.

 _Loki_ was beautiful.

“And therein lies my failure.”

Tony winced, wanted to step up and take Loki’s hands, mold himself to Loki’s back, but everything in his body was screaming _stay away from me_ , and Tony dug his nails into his palms and didn’t move. “Yeah?”

“To make you Aesir, I must understand _everything_ that it would mean. To understand you, and what I want you to become, down to your very deepest nature. You… perhaps, with years of study, I might grasp you, but the other… What do _I_ know of what it means to be Aesir? How can I make you one when after a thousand years among them I still fell short?”

He jerked his head up, high and proud and pretending nothing was wrong. “I have not the power… the mind, the _heart_ to understand such a thing, and teach it to the cosmos that it may do it for me. But I know of one man who does. One man who changed an Aesir to a human in an instant, and back again while he slept.”

Loki was almost chewing on the words by the end, and his hands were gripping each other like they were strangling something between them - or maybe just themselves - and blood was seeping out from where his nails dug into the flesh of his palm.

Tony’s stomach sank and he felt - not a chill, but a kind of emptiness. The kind of premonition that what was about to happen would be so bad that there was no point in even getting ready to fight it, that everything was already over. “Who?”

“The King of Asgard and protector of the nine realms, Odin Allfather.”

Loki’s adoptive asshole neglectful father, who’d snatched him up - maybe saved him, maybe stolen him, Loki only had Odin’s word and it wasn’t like he trusted that - and raised him to be a puppet king at best and then abandoned that plan in a single day for no particular reason, who’d never told him that he was of a different _species_ , let alone simply adopted, and then hadn’t had the guts to actually kill him when he got in the way, but had tried to make Thor do it for him.

“Well, shit.”

“So what you ask of me is, in truth, that I ask this of him. That I return to Asgard…” His head dropped and his hands flexed. “Mother.”

“Huh?”

Loki spun around to face Tony. His eyes were searing, the mad trapped panic he’d worn for half of the invasion. “Mother told me I could return to Asgard if I had need. She did not tell me why, but this…”

Tony nodded slowly. “This must be why.”

“Why she did not _say…_ Well. She was right, and I must win whatever mercy I can from Odin and convince him to serve my love.”

Oh, hell. Tony crossed the gap, and rested his hands on Loki’s shoulders. “I didn’t know that, Icicle, I swear I wouldn’t have asked if I had - I know a bit about shit fathers, you know that, and - you don’t have to see him again, okay, it’s not worth it.” 

They’d find another way, they’d manage, they could do this without Odin, without breaking Loki’s heart all over again. 

Loki hissed and his hands seized Tony’s biceps hard, fingers digging in. “You damn fool - there is no other way! Do you think I would even consider this if I did not have to? And I do have to, or I _will_ lose you to this cursed place, and I will leave you in danger no longer. _You are not permitted to die._ ”

“I don’t want to die, I just don’t want _you_ to die either! I know what this would do to you, and I’m not about to let that happen.”

“I survived him for a thousand years, one more day will make no difference. But _you_ -” Loki chewed on the inside of his cheek, and pried a hand away from Tony’s arm and cupped his jaw. Not tenderly, but carefully, holding back so much of his strength that his fingers were shaking with the force of keeping himself calm. “These Avengers of yours… Why do you care for them so much? Why do you obey your captain when he sends you to all but your death? Why do you _wait_ to hear his scolding for _my_ actions? I would have killed him for that had you not so clearly despised the thought of vengeance. They _hurt_ you. Why do you not simply throw them from your tower?”

He probably meant _throw_ as in _evict_ , not _defenestrate_. Then again, considering what he’d done to Tony, maybe not - maybe killing people who got in his way was entirely how Loki went about business.

But simply offing all the Avengers - minus Thor, obviously, no way was Loki suggesting that - wasn’t the way out of this.

And why not, exactly? Natasha and Steve had never liked him and Bruce and Clint got underfoot in the lab and Thor still hadn’t kicked the habit of accidentally breaking things every other day, so why the hell did he put up with these people?

He knew why. And it didn’t throw him into a very flattering light, but he knew exactly why he surrounded himself with them.

“If you had to describe me, what would you say?”

Loki blinked and tilted his head, eyebrow raised in what was mostly curiosity, with a healthy dash of _isn’t it obvious?_ “Mine. Bold, brilliant. Warm. A heart and mind greater than any I have ever known. Master of whatever craft you-”

“Whoa, no, hold up.” Tony flapped his hands and warded off the torrent of praise. “Not good. Let’s try arrogant and egotistical and narcissistic, okay? With a couple of very close calls with addiction and killing myself by accident. Tony Stark knows better than everyone else, doesn’t put up with anybody telling him what to do, thinks he can protect the world from everything all by himself. And there’s a word for people like that.”

“Genius.”

“ _Fucking annoying._ If I hate everyone because they suck, then everyone sure as hell hates me. So this is me, the lone wolf who does everything on his own, doesn’t want another human being near him because nobody will ever be good enough, and he’ll always end up disappointed in how they don’t measure up. And everybody else loathes me for my money and power and sheer assholery. And then the Avengers happened. I guess you happened.”

Huh. He’d never thought of that before - had Loki been responsible for putting good into Tony’s life _before_ they’d hooked up? Weird.

“And they made me be part of something bigger. Suddenly the fact that I was a selfish arrogant jerk _didn’t matter_. There was more at stake. We _had_ to work together, however much I didn’t want to and thought they’d slow me down and I’d just end up doing everything myself.” Which, in the end, he kind of had - _no, bad thoughts, bad thoughts, no more portals -_ “But it wasn’t like that. It worked. We did _good_. And when we got off the playing field, they didn’t hate me. Or they’d forgotten they had. Whatever.”

_I don’t play well with others._

_And they let me play anyway._

“So what if we don’t always get along as people, the _team’s_ fantastic. We work, we’re good, and off the field… yeah, it carries over. And the free first-class accommodation probably helps, too.”

Loki’s expression went somewhere between pained and skeptical. “These people whom you value so, you believe they stay because you pay them? Why do you tolerate their presence if you think their affections are purely mercenary?”

“Because up until you, they were the best thing I’d ever had.”

Oh god, the thing Loki’s eyes did at that, the dark pools of _you’re hurt let me love you_ , that was way too much. Tony couldn’t handle that, couldn’t hold it - couldn’t even _process_ it, it looked wrong directed at him, looked misplaced, because people weren’t supposed to _know_ when Tony was hurt and Tony wasn’t supposed to _get_ hurt from this kind of stuff anyway - so he’d been alone his whole life, how was that a revelation, and he preferred it that way, anyway, didn’t want to share jokes or be friendly or talk, ever, he didn’t _care!_

He turned around so he didn’t have to see anything except his lab, that was better, he could have been alone in here - only he wasn’t, and he straightened his spine and lifted his chin and didn’t curl into himself and give up on existence for a few minutes.

He wasn’t equipped to deal with this. The only thing he couldn’t run away from was himself, and nothing was going to make this better, make him stop feeling like an idiot teenager moping because he had no friends-

Loki’s arms wrapped low around his stomach and his lips pressed to Tony’s shoulder, black hair filling his peripheral vision on that side, and Tony sighed and relaxed back into Loki’s hold. _Up until you_ \- he’d said it himself, Loki wasn’t like that; Tony couldn’t doubt Loki after everything they’d come through together. Loki knew him and Loki wanted him and Loki loved him, and Tony wasn’t going to let himself screw this up, wasn’t going to ruin this like he ruined everything else.

Because that was the thing about Loki. He was already so very ruined that _nothing_ Tony could do to him could possibly make him worse. Even sending him back to Earth while Tony had been taking on the Chitauri had only led to a very brief fight and swift forgiveness - it hadn’t meant nothing, Loki had definitely felt it and Tony wasn’t about to do it again, but doing less to Pepper had made her cut herself off from him, unable to take any more. But Loki had stayed and they’d worked through it together, and moved on. Tony’s actions were pocket change compared to Odin’s and Thor’s and the Chitauri’s - a thousand years of neglect to start with, and months of outright torture - what could Tony do that would compare to that?

_Tony couldn’t hurt Loki._

Not much, not permanently, nothing that Loki wouldn’t get over - Tony could make mistakes without destroying everything. He’d done it already, a couple of times, the proto-genocide and the more mundane abandoning Loki in his bed while he went down to the workshop, and Loki was still here and everything was fine.

“But I’ve got you now. Okay? So it’s all good. But that doesn’t mean that I get to tear them apart so I can be happy. The team has to stay put. They need _a_ Tony Stark, just not me.”

Loki settled his chin over Tony’s shoulder. “This means a great deal to you. They do.”

“Yeah.” Because, okay, he was human after all, he had to admit it, he liked having people around him, and he enjoyed the Avengers’ company and - unlike Pepper and Rhodey - he wasn’t really paying them to stick around so they must have liked him too. All cynicism aside, giving them the fair benefit of the doubt, they had to like him.

Loki drew in a deep breath, and held it. “Then I will do this. For you. For you, I will crawl back to Odin’s feet and beg his favor.”

Tony shuddered. The thought of that was absolutely _vile_ , the idea that after everything Loki had done to free himself, he still needed his failure of a father.

And didn’t that sound like somebody else Tony knew?

“You probably won’t believe me, but this?” He drummed his fingers on the reactor. “Took me a couple goes to get it right. The first version was actually slowly poisoning me. Unpleasantly.”

A sharp indrawn breath from Loki, because oh yeah, _Tony almost got poisoned_ , and Tony settled his hands over Loki’s and stroked the cold skin. “Don’t panic. I swapped out the core and everything was fine.” Yeah, everything, sure. “Only thing is, the new core that saved my life - it wasn’t my work. I had to take it from my dad. After everything he did, everything I still hate him for, he’s the reason I’m alive. He gives me every breath I take.” He lifted a hand and tangled it in Loki’s hair. “Every minute I have with you. And I hate him all the more for it.”

“As you should.”

“But on the other hand,” Tony said, firmly, _this_ was the bit that Loki needed to hear, “he’s dead, and I’m still making him work for my sorry ass. All his accomplishments, legacy, everything, and it just boils down to keeping me alive. Which is exactly nothing he ever found important. He would _not_ have been proud to know that the crowning achievement of his life was saving mine twenty years down the track.”

He rubbed the reactor again, _thanks a lot, Dad,_ and then folded his hand back into Loki’s, settled against his hip. “So I get that the last thing you want is Odin’s help. I do. But I also know that the last thing he wants is to help you. This is going to suck for you, but I guarantee it’ll be just as bad for him. If he wants you to be miserable, then turn around and make him make you be happy.”

“It is not that easy.”

“No, of course it’s not. Never is. But just try to think about it a little differently. Like he’s working for you. You’re not begging his favor, he _owes_ you one. Or a hell of a lot more than one, but you get it, right?”

Loki sighed, and nuzzled Tony’s shoulder with his lips for a moment. “Your father was a dreadful man, was he not?”

“Dreadful father, for sure. Can’t say I ever knew the _man_.”

“And yet you still took this gift from his hands. I… would not have been surprised to hear that you rejected it entirely and chose your own death over life given by him.”

Tony shivered, and Loki felt it and held him tighter. “Considered it. But I wasn’t about to let him make me decide to die.”

“Yes. And if you bear your father’s touch upon you to save your life, then I can do the same.” Loki’s lips parted and his teeth settled over the tendon in Tony’s shoulder and he bit down softly, extra muted by Tony’s shirt. “I’ll not watch you die. I’ll not be left alone in the cold. I’ll not face eternity without you by my side. And nor will I allow him to make me do so.”

“So. Asgard?”

“Asgard.”

~

“I had meant to gift this to you in happier circumstances.”

Thor paused outside the door to Stark’s - Stark and Loki’s, now - bedchamber. He had merely meant to ensure they were both well after what had happened during their attack, but if Loki was giving Stark a gift then Thor did not wish to interrupt.

“Hey, it’s better than the alternative. Last time I was in jeans and a tee with oil stains and scorch marks all over it. Have you got any idea how weird it felt to be the worst-dressed guy in the room?”

Loki tutted at him. “You looked magnificent.”

“I _always_ look magnificent. Just saying it _felt_ weird.”

Loki laughed softly, and Thor’s heart swelled in his chest. Loki offered his laughter to Stark so easily. When Thor saw Loki in these halls, he was smiling; once his smiles had been rarer than any gold or jewel. Thor had not expected that Loki could be happy. How had Stark managed in a few days what Thor had been trying to achieve all his life?

Perhaps because Thor had not truly been trying. Loki had been an annoyance, often, tagging along on Thor’s adventures when it had been clear he had had no interest in battle. His magic had saved Thor and his friends on many occasions, but it had likewise proved that they had _needed_ to be saved. That had always left a bitter taste in Thor’s mouth. He had blamed Loki for it, for it had been easier than blaming himself.

Thor shook his head, and stared down at the floor as if Loki stood before him, watching. Thor was trying now, and things were getting better between them. Though Loki spent much time with Stark, he also spent a great deal with Thor. Thor had been teaching him of Midgardian culture, as the Avengers had taught him. He had seen more of Loki in the past fortnight than for the previous year. And they had had conversations they should have had years ago, save that they had not been ready then. Thor had been too arrogant, Loki too jealous, both unwilling to admit, even to themselves, how much they loved the other. Now things had changed, and their brotherhood along with them. For the infinitely better.

And yet, Thor still owed him much more than this. Loki could insist that Thor was forgiven, that Loki understood - that Loki had suffered so much else that he could now see he had been clinging to the insults and jests of boys as wounds near unto death. But Thor had made those insults and jests, had caused his brother pain, and that had not changed. 

It never would, but Thor would balance the scales nevertheless.

“Brother, either come in or stop lurking.”

Thor jumped back, surprised, and then guilty. Of course Loki had known all along that he had been here, eavesdropping. “Forgive me, I had no wish to intrude.”

“Oh, yes, standing outside like a guard on watch is so very peaceful.”

“I am sorry. I shall not disturb you further.”

A loud sigh from Loki, and the door flew open. Thor was jerked forward off his feet, Loki’s hand fisted in his shirt and dragging him inside. Thor staggered and caught his balance, and pushed Loki’s hand aside to walk on his own.

Loki stopped, a wry smile on his lips, one eyebrow raised. “Clearly you had something to say, or you would not have come at all.”

“Yes.” Thor looked around for Stark, as well. He stood in the center of the room, and…

He was wearing Asgardian garb, casual leather. It was fashioned along similar lines to the things Loki wore, but colored in black and dark red, instead of green. A black tight-fitting coat, sleeveless, hung open and reached his knees. A second jacket was visible inside, this one a warm dark red. It was made from many pieces, forming the complicated and layered herringbone pattern Loki favored. Its sleeves covered Stark’s arms, tight yet clearly comfortable. The last inch of cuff was a vivid, piercing blue-white. A plain black tunic was under that, open at the collar - perhaps a little informally so, but ever had Loki pushed appropriate boundaries. The trousers were dark gray leather, so dark they were almost black. They tucked into high black boots covering Stark’s lower legs. The whole was edged with gold trim, bright and sharp against the dark colors.

“You look very fine.” Thor glanced aside to Loki; he was also wearing Asgardian clothing, not the Midgardian suit he’d had during the day. “Your work, I assume?”

“Yes.” Loki was eyeing Stark too, with focus and intent. He strode forward and tugged the black coat a little straighter, settled the collar to frame Stark’s neck just so. 

Stark lifted a hand and pulled Loki’s aside gently. “You’re picking. Cut it out. It looks great.”

Loki scowled, but denied neither observation. “Of course I pick. Consider the purpose it serves. Forgive me if I fear the slightest imperfection.”

Stark pressed a finger beneath Loki’s chin, and lifted his head so their eyes met. “There aren’t any.”

Loki twitched at the collar once more, and nodded. 

Thor glanced between them, surprised at the intensity of their looks. “Purpose? What purpose?” Clearly, that laughter he had heard before had been merely brief and isolated. This grim manner and the serious way Loki spoke of their _purpose_ \- what warranted this?

Loki stepped back from Stark, hands balling into fists by his sides as if he would otherwise continue to find flaws in Stark’s dress. Loki flicked his eyes over to Thor, and his lips thinned. “We go to Asgard.”

Thor felt as though he had been struck in the chest. “Are you mad? Have you forgotten every reason why we left?” Thor certainly had not, and they yet dug at him like knives; his father’s betrayal, the torture Odin had planned for Loki, the muttered revulsion of the court at Loki’s true heritage. If Loki returned, traitor and cast out and known to be Jotun, he would be torn to shreds within moments. 

Loki waved it all aside. “Mother offers her safe-conduct. There is something I need from Odin.”

Odin? He walked to his _death_ , if he sought out Odin. “Loki-” Thor seized his shoulders, and jerked him around so they were face-to-face. “What can you possibly need that you would risk this?”

Loki stared Thor down as though he meant to fight his way free if Thor did not release him. “Stark. He can give me Stark. Forever. I will have him made Aesir.”

Ah. Stark. Forever. Yes, Thor knew very well that the promise of such a thing could drive Loki to any means to achieve it. Nor would anything less convince Loki to ask Odin for aid.

But that did not mean that he would succeed. What did Loki think he could offer Odin that he would agree to this? Stark was a powerful enemy, who had already stood opposed to Odin once. Odin would not wish to see Stark made a permanent thorn in his side. Nor would he wish for Loki’s happiness. No, he almost certainly planned for Stark to die, and to then leap upon a Loki wounded and heartbroken, weak beyond measure.

What could Loki offer Odin that would make him turn from all this?

Nothing. Surely, nothing. Anything Loki had to bargain with - and that was not much - Odin could take from him by force instead. Stark’s death served too many ends for Odin to give up on it simply for Loki’s asking.

“Brother, he will not help you.”

Loki hissed. “Don’t say that. He will. Whatever he wants, I will do it.”

“There is nothing you can give him that will outweigh what he gains in refusing you. Nothing.”

Loki snarled, and shoved Thor back with fierce hands. “There will be. I will find it. Odin must want _something_.”

It hit Thor clearly and completely, what Odin wanted beyond anything else. What an old king, tired of his rule, a father with no sons, wanted.

_Me._

Thor would return to his father’s throne, kneel in supplication and confess to a change of heart - lies worthy of Loki’s tongue - and beg to return to his duties to Asgard. Thor’s price, Stark’s elevation, would be a small one compared to what Odin received. To have his son and heir in his possession once more, Odin would do far more than surrender his plans for Loki’s downfall through Stark’s death. If Thor returned alone, or at least stayed on Asgard alone, perhaps Loki would not be so immediate a concern. Odin feared his closeness to Thor, but if they were realms apart… the human phrase _out of sight, out of mind_ seemed appropriate here.

Now to convince Loki to allow Thor to do such a thing.

“Loki, please, hear me. He wants nothing from _you._ From me…”

Loki blinked, and shifted warily. Stark, coming closer, shared his expression. “You?”

“Odin Allfather will do much to have me stand as his heir once more.”

Loki’s eyes flew wide. “ _No._ ” He grabbed Thor’s head in both hands and pulled him close. “Thor, you unspeakable fool-”

Thor reached up and broke Loki’s grip, trapping his wild hands in Thor’s own. “Listen to me! What can you offer him? Service, submission? He can compel everything from you if you walk back within his grasp, and you know it. He can kill Stark without excuse or trial, and do whatever he wills upon you. But if _I_ ask for this, if I say that I will return to serve Asgard if you are safe and Stark is Aesir beside you, I know he will grant it me.”

Loki spun away, hands rubbing at each other, equal parts frustration and worry. He knew Odin almost as well as Thor did, and had a sharper view of all that was worst about him. He knew the plan would work. But that left Loki torn between allowing Stark to age and whither, or sacrificing Thor to protect him. 

Well, in the end, it was not Loki’s choice. Thor _would_ do this thing. The debt he owed Loki was too great to permit him to turn aside, and… 

And he wished to be king. Wished to give Asgard a better ruler than the one it now had. If Odin was willing to torment one son to protect the other, what more would he do for Asgard’s sake? What dreadful bargains would he decide were worth the gain, no matter what was lost? In truth, Thor had come to fear for Asgard, this week past, what she might suffer under Odin’s hand. Thor had saved Loki; now his duty was to his realm, and she too stood in peril.

Stark folded his arms across his chest, made somewhat awkward by the stiff leathers he was unused to. “I don’t think that just walking back in there like nothing happened is gonna work. You kind of immolated your bridges. This is a bad idea, and coming from _me_ , that’s saying something.”

Loki waved an irritated hand without turning around to face them. “Thor is perfectly free to act as he wishes. And if that means throwing me a companion so I will not think myself abandoned when he returns to his glorious birthright of a kingdom and the arms of his loving father, then that is what he must do.”

It was an arrow of frost shot to Thor’s chest. Loki could not truly believe that of him! Thor sought to give Loki what he most desired! Thor cared nothing for Odin beyond what he could do for Loki, and that he hand Thor the throne of Asgard as soon as possible. Any familial sentiment on Thor’s part would be a lie, to sell the story of his changed heart. Did Loki not know a lie when he heard one? “Loki, it-”

“Hey.” Stark stepped up to Loki, laid an arm around his waist and reached up with careful fingers to turn Loki’s face towards his. “Loki. That’s not what’s going on here. Thor’s trying to help. He’s not forgiving Odin, and he’s not dumping you. You really think it’s going to be fun for him? You think he doesn’t want to get revenge on the guy who didn’t lift a finger to help you when you were being torn apart right in front of him? You think he didn’t mean it when he chose you over Odin?” 

Loki’s lips were twisted to keep his silence, and his eyes were downcast, but his hand had risen to Stark’s hip. His thumb slowly traced the shape of the bone beneath the leather Stark wore, the touch small yet intimate. 

Stark tapped a finger under Loki’s chin, and Loki met Stark’s eyes. “Look. I know a little of what’s gone down between you two. And it wasn’t pretty. But I also know you want to trust Thor right now. You want to, but you’re scared. He’s let you down so many times, and it’s just easier to not put yourself in that position again.”

Loki’s eyes slipped shut, and his voice was but a whisper. “Stop.”

“Don’t shut him out. Don’t do that to yourself. He’s trying to help. Give him one more chance.”

Thor stayed where he was, allowing Stark to plead for him. It was demeaning, to need a mortal to persuade his own brother to trust him, but more than that, it was necessary. Loki would listen to Stark; he would not, in this moment of doubt, listen to Thor. 

With cause. Stark was right; Thor had failed Loki many times. But Stark did not ask Loki to trust Thor - Stark asked Loki to trust _him._

Stark squeezed at Loki’s side. “We good?”

Loki’s hand cupped the back of Stark’s neck. He pulled him in to press a kiss to his forehead, and then bent to rest their brows together. “What was it you called me? My own worst enemy. What would I do without you?”

Stark shuddered. “You _trying_ to give me more nightmares?”

Loki smiled unpleasantly, acknowledgement of the disasters he had skirted only by the force of Stark pulling him away from them. Without Stark, Loki would have stayed imprisoned on Asgard. He would never have shared the truth of his actions with Thor. He would have escaped only to give himself up to the Chitauri, to be punished for his failures among them, in the slim hope that this would appease them, and they would not seek out Thor to take further revenge upon Loki through his pain. Stark had averted that. 

Thor owed him a great debt, too.

“Merely the price for the ones you give me.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Loki sighed, and his hand tightened on Stark’s neck. “As we must. Our lives are bitter and we cannot avoid the taste of each other’s pain.”

Thor strode forward, unable to bear any more. Perhaps they found it easy to glory in their near destruction; Thor would have no more reminders of his many failures. He would help them both, and ease his own conscience.

In Stark’s words, Thor would ‘fix this’.

He laid a hand on each man’s shoulder. “Then allow me to gift you a sweeter future.”

~

Mother’s rooms had not changed, in the long time Loki had been away from them. Flowers and vines spilled from niches in the walls, glowing in the light of bright crystals set atop pillars around the room. Blue curtains rippled in the wind coming through the wide window, sending shadows through the moonlight pooling silver on the floor. He had spent uncounted hours here, in his youth, studying magic and history and literature, things his tutors thought inappropriate for a prince. And outside his lessons, he had often come to see her, even late at night as he did now. 

But Loki was not here to wish Mother goodnight before retiring himself, to make plans for a family outing tomorrow, to complain about Thor’s latest idiocy. He was a fugitive, sneaking in without her knowledge, secreting himself behind her closed doors to hide from the realm that desired his head on a pike. The rooms had not changed, but Loki had.

But he was still welcome here, whatever had passed.

“My sons.”

Mother had entered the main room from her bedchamber, still dressed for the day, but her hair undone, loose down her back, her feet bare, brushed by the hem of her skirts. She was smiling gently, eyes sweeping across the three of them where they stood, Stark and Loki in the center of the room and Thor over at a table by one wall, stealing from a plate of pastries.

Her gaze stopped on Stark, taking in the Asgardian garb, and she crossed the room to brush a hand over his surcoat. “Very handsome. A proper prince of Asgard.”

Prince of Asgard… she could not mean…

Of course she meant it, of course she would declare Stark a prince, equal to Loki, would have Loki too be such. She would not offer them anything less than everything in her gift. She loved Loki, and Stark, and he was a damned fool to doubt it.

Stark’s elbow bumped Loki in the ribs, and he muttered low from the corner of his mouth. “Told you so.”

Her smile widened, just a little, before she lowered her hand and met Loki’s eyes, solemn now. “I did not expect you so soon.”

Loki swallowed, his body going stiff. He could beg of her all he wanted, but she would not wish him to drop to his knees for it. “You were right. I needed to come here. What is the point in waiting?”

“Odin will be in a kinder mood when more time has passed-”

“And by then Stark could be _dead._ I will not waste a second longer than necessary!”

His voice had risen sharply, echoing between the walls, and he glanced away and bowed his head. He did not need Mother’s frown to know he had stepped too far. Shouting at _her_ … “Forgive me, I…”

“It’s been a really tough day,” Stark said, settling his hand firmly in the small of Loki’s back and shifting forward as if to come between him and Mother. “Can we talk to the big guy or not?”

_Odin._

Loki had been so, so sure that he had finally freed himself from Odin’s clutches, so sure that he would never be trapped beneath his heel again. And yet here he was, pleading for favor and mercy, back in the shadow of Odin’s rule… And _Loki_ had by far the easier role. It was Thor who would kneel at his father’s feet and beg for forgiveness as if he believed he had done wrong. Loki, they had agreed, would simply lurk invisibly behind Thor, whisper counsel in his ear, know the deal Odin meant to bind them by. Thor - and Stark - had insisted he did not need to speak with Odin directly, and Loki had yielded to them, let them shield his broken heart. 

It would be nothing to merely stand there and watch. Nothing. Odin was not Loki’s father, and Thor would not mean a word that came from his mouth. Simple. Loki would not let this touch him. Would just ensure he kept his hand in these events, would not let his brother do this thing completely alone.

Forgiveness would come - Odin was weak and desperate, Thor was right about that - but it would not come easily. Thor said his submission would be enough, but Odin would not give in without Loki’s blood to seal the bargain. He would not permit Loki to dance within his grasp and slip away once his business was done. He would want to chain him down again, imprison him, take his magic, whatever he thought he could make Thor agree to, as if Loki would suffer any of that.

Odin should have known better than to cross him. 

Tricking the Allfather out of his prize would almost make this enjoyable.

Mother shook her head at Stark’s question. “Not tonight. In the morning.”

“But we-”

She fixed them both with a firm stare. “Odin will certainly not help you if you wake him for this. Come now, it’s late. No harm will come to you in my halls. You should rest, and _you_ -” she directed it past Loki’s shoulder, to where Thor stood, still pillaging the pastries, “leave those alone.”

“But Mother-”

She arched her eyebrow, and Thor fell silent at once. She turned back to Loki. “Rest, and we shall begin in the morning.” She smiled indulgently. “I know you want this as soon as may be. I promise, you cannot have it sooner than tomorrow.” She raised a hand and laid it against his cheek, soft and gentle. “I have had your rooms kept as they were. You will not be disturbed there.”

He bowed his head. “Thank you.”

She smiled again, and nodded to Loki and then Stark. “Goodnight.”

“See you in the morning.”

Loki took Stark’s hand firmly in his, and _see, step,_ brought them from Mother’s rooms to his own. 

The bedchamber was lined silver in the moonlight through the window, easily bright enough to see by without Loki summoning magic to light the room further. Shadows rippled across the walls, filling the deep knotwork carvings he had designed himself, merely to terrify people with the idea that he had been working some kind of ominous spell. The bed had been neatly made at some point, pillows stacked against the headboard, the heavy coverings rich and dark and inviting, beckoning him down into their embrace.

Yes, after the day they had had, Mother was more than right to send them to rest.

 _Take, vanish, hide,_ he magicked their clothes from them, and led Stark to the bed. “Come. Sleep.”

“Sleep? In this thing? Icicle, this is _obviously_ a bed for having orgies in, I doubt you’ve slept a second-”

Loki tossed the sheets back and laid down, pulling Stark after him. He sank into the mattress, deeper and softer than Stark’s, stretched out and let himself all but melt. His eyelids were already half-lidded, refusing to open fully even to keep his gaze on Stark. “I said sleep, and I meant it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stark shoved the pillows aside, seizing one and tucking that alone beneath his head, before pulling the sheets back over them, and turning to face Loki. He pushed gently at Loki’s shoulder to roll him over, facing away, and then tucked himself firmly against Loki’s back, all warm, soft skin, and put an arm around his waist, firm and secure. His lips, hot and damp, kissed the nape of Loki’s neck. “I’m actually sleeping in a god’s bed. Definition of awesome.”

“You’ll always sleep in a god’s bed, that I promise.”

“Because it’ll be yours, or because I’ll be a god too?”

Loki sighed loudly. “ _Both_ , Stark.”

Stark grinned against Loki’s neck. “Love you too.”


	7. Asgardian

“This was a really bad idea.”

Tony spun on his heel and paced back towards the other gold wall, scrolly and carved and _gold_ , so much goddamn gold in this place, did it have to look like it was made from old bits of Loki’s armor? Did every step, every breath, have to remind him of what was at stake here?

Fuck, he’d sent Loki off to face his dickwad of a father without anyone to back him up, and it didn’t matter that technically it was Thor doing the facing and Loki was only lurking invisibly behind his brother, it was still Loki in a room with Odin and how could Tony have let that happen?

“Peace.” Frigga waved a tired hand at him from where she sat on a low couch against a wall. “They are safe.”

“Then why’s Loki got to hide himself? Why did he tell me to never go anywhere alone? You know a lot better than me how much Odin’s capable of ripping him to shreds. And he’s watching Thor being all nice and friendly and pretending to be on Odin’s side, and he had doubts when Thor suggested it, actually _watching_ is going to be a thousand times worse…” He spun around and strode back, restless energy surging through his legs, needing an outlet somewhere, pouring out into the _gold gold gold._

“Then you will heal him. Hold him to your breast as he weeps and swear him your love. Give him strength and a place to rest before he must stand before Odin once more.” Frigga caught at his wrist and jerked him to a stop, and pulled him around to face her, standing right beside him. He met her eyes, blue and steely and so, so determined; they were Thor’s, or rather Thor had hers. “He suffers this for you, and though he does it gladly, still you owe him for it.”

“You think I don’t know that?” God, Tony knew, knew everything Loki was doing for him - had imagined walking up to _Howard_ and asking for some invention to save Loki’s life, and had wanted to throw up. That dependency, that reliance - admitting that Dad could do it better, that Odin’s magic was stronger than Loki’s - Tony would never have asked Loki to go through this. But Loki was doing it anyway, unless it was too late, unless he’d been wrong in saying that Odin couldn’t sense his magic because it was _Thor’s_ magic, and having Thor in the room would conceal him. Loki could have been found out and captured or killed or anything, just like last time they’d been here, and Tony still wasn’t doing a thing about it.

Not that he could have made Odin take the deal, or hidden Loki any better, or done _anything_ to help, which was why he’d agreed to stay behind, let Thor handle this on his own - and there was something _else_ that was his fault, because while Loki was his priority, Thor was definitely a great buddy, and Tony was making _him_ go through this shit as well, making him smile at the guy who’d locked Loki up for months and stolen his magic right out of his body, left him bleeding and almost dead in the middle of the biggest fucking room in the universe. 

God, it wasn’t supposed to be this way! _Tony_ was meant to take the heat, meant to protect his friends from this kind of crap, meant to pay the price himself instead of having others do it for him…

Loki would have been calling him an idiot and grabbing him close and kissing the stupid out of him if he’d been here. Tony was his just as much as Loki was Tony’s, and that meant it was alright for them to do this for each other. Loki would choose every single time to put himself through the wringer in Tony’s place, and Tony had to let him make that choice if he wanted Loki to respect that when _Tony_ put his foot down and threw himself in front of the blast, it was because he had to, because it would hurt less than letting Loki get caught in it. 

“F-” _Do not swear in front of your mother figure the goddess, you moron -_ “This is messed up.”

“I know. But they will be safe. I would not allow it otherwise.”

“Yeah?” God, he hated the pleading tone that slipped out there, because even if he _did_ need reassurance that everything would be okay there was no reason to let other people hear it, but Frigga just smiled and nodded like she didn’t have a second’s doubt, like she was really sure about all this, and that meant everything had to be okay, because she really wouldn’t have left Loki and Thor in danger.

“Come.” She pulled him back towards the couch she’d claimed. “Sit.”

Tony let her tow him over the gold floor - he’d never call Captain America gaudy again, not after seeing Asgard - and he sat down beside her, limp and tired, adrenaline evaporated. Because there was nothing he could do, nothing he _should_ do, he just had to let Thor make this work, couldn’t help Loki until he got back. Tony just had to _wait_ for this to be over.

Frigga’s hand was stroking the back of his gently, and she chuckled softly. “He used to put honey in Thor’s hair.”

Huh?

Tony blinked himself out of the worry and the angst, and turned his head to look at her. A soft smile was tugging at her lips. “I’m sorry?”

She turned her head to meet his eyes, and patted his hand where she held it in her lap. “Loki. As a child, he would put honey in Thor’s hair while he slept. Then dirt would stick to it while he played. I would have to wash it and comb it out every night.” Her voice said this was a happy memory, or happy enough, and it did sound just like Loki, mischief and annoying Thor. Her smile was fond, nostalgic. “Loki stopped when he realized his trick caused me work. Such a caring boy.”

She laughed softly. “He turned to other tricks, of course. He only learned swordplay so he could trip Thor in the corridors, and claim he was but training.”

“Mother, telling tales in my absence? Shame.”

“Loki!” He was standing in the middle of the room, back, here, _safe_ , and Tony shot up from the couch before Loki held out a hand to stop him, and Tony froze. _Not good._  

Tony sank back down, left Loki alone. He knew how it felt to not want human - or whatever - contact, to need space and time, to pretend that everything was fine. And Loki looked okay, anyway, not crying or paler than usual - not much, anyway - just… coping. Surviving.

He strode over to their couch, bent to kiss Frigga’s cheek and then lifted Tony’s hand to his cool, dry lips. He smiled, tired and pained but genuine, and walked away, hands twisting behind his back, boots loud on the hard marble floor. 

He stopped by the window and stared out like neither of them was really here, but the kiss on Tony’s fingers said otherwise, said that Loki had taken special care to greet them before blocking himself out. Loki knew what it was to be forgotten and unwanted, and even when he needed some breathing room, he made sure that they didn’t feel that way.

God, he _cared._ Loki really did care so much, no wonder he tried so hard to hide it from everyone.

“Loki?” Frigga prompted softly.

Loki swallowed and didn’t turn around, but he nodded firmly. “It is agreed. We have what we wanted. Whatever else Thor says, it is well.”

_It is agreed._

That was it. Tony was going to be immortal. Massive lifespan, indestructible, _kneel before me puny mortals_ immortal. His heart was racing in his chest, pounding against the arc reactor for maybe the last few hundred beats, because no Aesir was walking around with one of these, no god ever stood inches away from dying. Even if they couldn’t get the shrapnel out, it’d probably just itch. 

Just itch. He carried a death sentence wherever he went, and before the day was out it would just be an _itch._

All Tony’s weakness, all the close scrapes and near-death experiences, the vulnerability and the danger, that was all history. There was nothing left that could threaten him, _nothing_.

Except - except if it didn’t come through at the last minute, and it sounded like Thor had some reservations.

The double doors swung open and Thor himself stepped through, looking far less controlled than Loki - hair tangled like he’d been scrubbing his hands through it, face flushed, teeth set hard in his lower lip. He shoved the doors shut behind him and they met with a melodic clang. “Loki!”

“Thor.”

Thor growled and started to cross the room, and Tony stood up, tense, ready to leap between Thor and Loki the second it looked like Thor wasn’t going to stop somewhere reasonable.

“Why did you tell me to agree to this? What do you think-”

“Boys.” Frigga was just _there_ between them; Tony hadn’t even seen her move. _Mom superpowers._ Her hands were outstretched, one blocking Thor, one reaching imploringly for Loki. “Remember Tony and I know nothing of this. Tell us what happened before you accuse each other of fault.”

Thor ground his teeth and grabbed at his hair again, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. It was Loki who spoke, still turned away, but voice pitched to reach them. “Thor is a lovely liar - better than I have ever given him credit for, I admit. It would have warmed any heart to see him plead for return. He acted foolishly, of heated blood, and only realized later the consequences of his actions. For all his love for me, undenied, he must love Asgard more. He is Asgard’s prince before Loki’s brother, and he knows that now.” Loki smiled, brief and bitter. “You’ll call me one of your little Midgardian insults, Stark, but even I had moments of doubt. Thor on his knees is very persuasive.”

“Moron,” Tony agreed, _dammit_ , this was exactly what he’d been afraid of! But - moments, only moments, and Loki _had_ had them, didn’t still have them now. And it was really to their benefit that Loki had been convinced, however briefly, because they needed to fool another man who’d been Thor’s family for a thousand years and that wouldn’t be done by saying _aw shucks Dad, I messed up, gimme a second chance?_

Loki’s smile widened. “Quite. More importantly, Odin was swayed. Thor was telling him everything he wanted to hear, after all. He offered a deal.”

“He offered a trap!” Thor shouted, anger burning openly, but he held himself back and stayed where he was, left Loki his miles of personal space. “He let me trap myself!”

“Yes, that is the danger of bluffing the Allfather,” Loki said with a shrug, icily calm compared to Thor. “He said that if Thor was so concerned to be Asgard’s servant, he could not ignore the threat I posed. If he meant to swear himself to justice and the rule of the king’s law, he could not deny that I have broken enough of those laws to merit punishment. My sentence was given lawfully and justly - _hah_ \- and must stand.”

“And I would have refused,” Thor gritted out, “would have spat the offer in his face but that _you_ told me to accept! Why, Loki? Why put yourself back in his hands? I thought you sought to keep Stark by your side! You cannot mean to have him imprisoned with you! Why accept this parting?”

“He hasn’t.”

Loki grinned at Tony’s words, and Frigga smiled at him, but Thor spun, all confused and raging, waving his hands through the air. “Have I not made it clear? Odin demanded imprisonment and he agreed to it!”

“May I introduce the _god of lies?_ ” Tony took a step towards Loki and waited to see how he reacted; Loki jerked his chin to beckon him over, and Tony crossed the room and slipped an arm around Loki’s back. “He’s learned better than self-sacrifice by now, I lectured him about it often enough. He’s going to get out of this without setting foot in another cell, am I right?”

Because he would have been wrong once, there had been a time when that had been Loki’s entire existence, suffering to protect those he loved, but he had other options now, had people willing to fight for him, to fight _with_ him, and Loki knew that. Had to know that Tony wouldn’t lose him for anything.

“Mmm.” Loki turned in Tony’s arm, and bent to kiss him gently, a single brush of those cool, firm lips against Tony’s. Yeah, he knew. 

He straightened up again and turned around to face Thor. “Odin plots. He knows he cannot part Stark and I, and thus would use us both to his advantage. He throws Stark back to Midgard, where he will learn that it is no place for ones such as us, that the mortals’ endless deaths and the swift years grate upon him, and Asgard offers sweet refuge. He flees back here, beloved and welcome companion of Thor. When I am released from my imprisonment, Asgard will be safely protected from my revenge in the knowledge that I can now do nothing upon her with Stark in residence, and I cannot take him elsewhere.”

Thor sighed, fight gone out of him, and bowed his head. “Loki…"

“Oh, there’s more,” Loki said, grinning sharply. “When you are made king, _you_ will free me from Odin’s clutches, grant pardon to your wayward brother. I, prostrate with gratitude and love and fear of your displeasure, will fling myself to your feet and swear a thousand oaths of service, obeying your every word so as to remain in your good graces. Odin wins you a pet Jotun sorcerer, faithful to your faintest whim, and muzzled by care for Stark.”

“Okay, that’s the depressing part.” Tony took both of Loki’s hands in his, ran his thumbs across their backs. Despite the controlled grin, Tony could feel the shaking, too-rapid pulse under Loki’s skin, feel the cold sweat lining his cool palms. Very depressing, hearing that he wasn’t trusted, wasn’t wanted unless he could be used, and that Odin thought Loki’s love for his mother and brother meant nothing if it would take _Tony’s_ presence to get Loki to leave Asgard in peace. But it could have been worse, because when Loki was hit right at his core then he couldn’t hide it from anyone - Tony had seen what Loki had been brought down to by his actions when going after the Chitauri, and he wasn’t nearly as badly hurt this time. Odin had scored maybe an eight, but he’d missed the bullseye. 

Loki was fine. And maybe Odin was plotting, but Tony would back Loki against him any day. “And now the part where you tell us how you’re getting out of this.”

“The Avengers wish an Anthony Stark. We give them one. Odin wishes a Loki…” He glanced sideways, and swallowed. “Friggason.”

Tony looked sideways too, enough to see Frigga’s eyes widen, damp with tears, and her hand fly to her mouth to hide the raw smile. 

“And I shall give him one. A second one, as I give the Avengers a second Stark. A copy to suffer in my place.”

A Loki almost exactly like the real one, but not quite, just different enough to be exactly what Odin wanted, to let Loki slip out the back and run off, free, with Tony.

Yeah, but these were actual people they were talking about here, real living people that they were creating as solutions to problems, and maybe it was all right to invent a guy who was a rich superhero with a great girlfriend, but bringing someone to life just so he could rot in Odin’s dungeons, waiting for the day he saw Tony again - a day that would never come, because Tony would be with the _real_ one - that was something else.

“This second you, you realize what you’re doing to him? You know how much he’s going to get hurt? Well, yeah, you know _exactly_ what you’re going to put him through, because you’re the one avoiding it at any cost. Which, another problem - if he’s you, isn’t he going to get himself out of this as well?”

Loki shook his head, and waved it aside. “It shall not be like your copy, Stark. Simpler. I know what I - it - must face, and I will subject no creature to that. It… You remember you told me that Jarvis can think and feel for himself?”

“Yeah. He’s alive in every technology-based sense of the word.”

“Yours will be like that. Mine shall not. It shall react as if it feels, but there will be nothing inside it. Every breath will be a lie, every word, every gesture. Nothing more than the illusions I cast, with a little more solidity.”

“A weak AI.” All programming, all instructions, nothing spontaneous. Not even as sentient as his bots; little derps that they were, they still felt distress and joy and fear and love - Tony had noticed Dummy’s complete worship of Loki, just because Loki paid attention to him and actually drank his ghastly smoothies, since apparently battery acid wasn’t toxic to gods. And Loki _encouraged_ him every time he picked up a fire extinguisher, the jerk.

Loki smiled. “And not identical to myself. To willingly walk back into…” The smile vanished for a moment before he sucked in a breath. “Nevertheless, I spare Odin the charge of malicious cruelty. My second may scream and weep as…” Another pause, another breath, a ringing silence that could have been _I did_ or _I would_. “But whatever Odin does, it will _feel_ nothing. There will be nothing to feel. Odin’s victim shall have my face, my voice, but it will feel no pain. No despair. No heartbreak. And when it is permitted to walk Asgard freely, I shall return and take its place.”

“Return?”

They both turned to Thor, who shook his head and scoffed. “Of course. You leave for Midgard with Stark.”

Loki arched an eyebrow, but his smile wasn’t quite as scathing as it usually was when Thor was a step or two behind him. “It solves nothing to have all Asgard believe me imprisoned once more, and then appear by your side.”

“And I…” Thor ducked his head and turned away a little, and Tony’s heart shivered. It was really kind of dodgy of him to be snatching Loki up like this, taking him away from the family that obviously still loved him - a mother and a brother, more than Tony had ever had - that Loki had only just found his way back to. 

Yeah, but Tony was losing Pepper and the Avengers and Rhodey and Happy - and oh boy, he was glad he didn’t have to explain anything to those last two, it would be so much easier to just disappear and maybe drop in on them now and then without telling them _oh, by the way, I fell in love and changed species_. He was walking away from the closest thing he had to a family, too, but he knew it was worth it for Loki. He had to let Loki make the same choice.

And hope that Thor agreed that Loki’s presence was worth waiting for. They couldn’t stay here now - but Thor had to, that was the deal. He couldn’t come back with them the way he’d left the first time.

On the other hand, they were _gods_ , so even a century or two without Loki would go by pretty quickly. Thor would be busy ruling this place, after all, and it wasn’t like Loki couldn’t visit, secret and invisible. They’d manage.

Loki chuckled, and went to Thor and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Take comfort. I intend to spend at least the next ten years finding new ways to make Stark scream my name, and I really don’t think you want to be in the next room while I do so.”

Ah. Yeah, that was something Tony hadn’t considered. Maybe leaving Loki’s big brother on another planet was a better idea than he’d thought.

Thor laughed, big and loud and happy, and reached out for Loki’s other hand, grabbing his wrist firmly, and Loki grabbed Thor’s in return, the serious-business Asgardian handshake that Thor always used when he really, really meant it.

Loki hesitated, mouth hovering open before he licked his lips and his eyes fell away from Thor’s. “I know I have given you reason to distrust me in the past.”

“Loki-”

Loki held up a hand and Thor just stopped. “Listen. This - if you yet have any doubts, any at all, trust this.”

His other hand twirled through a sudden microclimate of mist and pulled a short, thin, shining knife out of the tiny cloud. He turned the hand he was still holding in the air, and swiped the knife _across his fucking palm just like that_.

“Loki!”

It came from Thor and Tony at the same time, and Loki hissed at them like he was annoyed at their concern for the fact that he was _bleeding_. Bright red blood was starting to flow from the cut - deep and savage and very, very _weird_ and where the hell was the nearest box of bandaids?

Loki closed that hand into a fist and thumped it against his heart. “Brother.”

_Oh._

It felt real in a way that no promise Tony had ever made in a boardroom had, like Loki _meant_ this and nothing could possibly change it, like he’d actually be incapable of breaking that bond; he was literally tying himself to Thor.

The air was ringing like it was on edge, waiting for Loki to keep going, like something so momentous needed more words to seal it. But Thor didn’t say anything, just reached for the knife in Loki’s other hand, slipped it from his fingers and pressed the blade to his own palm. 

It came away with a thin red line of Thor’s blood down the edge, and Thor reached out for Loki, hand open, the cut long and deep. Nothing held back.

Loki’s eyes were wide, lips parted, like he hadn’t been expecting _this_ , hadn’t thought Thor would offer him the same promise, but he lowered his hand from his chest and slowly uncurled it and took Thor’s.

Hard.

Their fingers went white with the force they were putting into this, like they were trying to merge their hands together completely and not just mingling a little of the blood across their palms. Loki’s gaze was all hope and sincerity and conviction - he wanted this and he’d _have_ it, all right - and tears were glittering in Thor’s eyes.

“Always,” Thor whispered, “brother.”

It meant that no matter what happened, everything would be okay.

God, it was so… so _much_ , a thousand years of shared past and an eternity of a future all bound up between them, and Tony glanced away because this was something that nobody got to intrude on. Tony was Loki’s heart and hope and partner, but this was about Loki and Thor, and that was something Tony would never, ever touch. 

Frigga - Mom? _God_ , no, not yet, _Frigga_ it was - was smiling into the hand she was trying to shelter behind, happy tears running down her cheeks. What had she been put up against in the year of shit they’d all gone through? Her son had tried to kill the other one, then killed _himself_ , and returned only to try to kill the other one again; he’d been brought back to her in chains, and then the awful truth: all that time they’d been mourning, thinking him dead and maybe at peace, he’d been tortured beyond imagining and had been _protecting_ the very realm they’d accused him of attacking. She’d seen all that, lived through it, but she’d come out at the other end whole, seeing her family reunite and grow and the love between her boys.

_All three of them, Jesus, how am I supposed to live up to that?_

But it wasn’t an expectation, not really, wasn’t a goal set for him to reach, and nudged a little further away every time he got close. She was just _there_ , and her family just _was_ , and Tony was a part of it not because he’d passed some test, but because he was Loki’s and therefore hers. Loki had brought Tony into the fold, and Frigga had taken one look at him and taken hold herself, claimed him as a son just as much as her other two. Tony was wanted just for himself, not because he could further a legacy or because his conception would force the father into marriage and get his mother a life of luxury, Frigga wanted _him._

_God, no wonder Loki went nuts when he thought he’d never feel this._

Because even if Odin took it all back at the last minute, even if they didn’t get Tony’s immortality on a platter, he still had more than he’d ever dreamed of. These people, _Loki_ \- Tony wouldn’t take eternity if it meant going it alone, if giving this up was the price. He’d just take Loki, his Loki, and enjoy every day and find another way to cheat death and if he couldn’t, he’d die happy.

So long as he had Loki with him.

~

The waters of the pool were rippling gently under the flowers she had strewn across the surface, pale, narrow petals and delicate cores, all thin, elegant simplicity. Her fingers floated just above the water, lifting and channeling and remaking it as it flowed through her, and left the fingers of her other hand, hovering above the grassy bank, to form a body the duplicate of Loki’s. 

Frigga felt the brighter, sharper patterns of Loki’s magic from across the pool, where he worked likewise to birth a second Tony Stark, this one a thing that had lived exactly as the first had, and only lacked the memories his predecessor bore since meeting Loki when Thor had brought him to Midgard. The body Frigga created was a hollow shell, empty and echoing, the semblance of awareness and nothing more; this Tony Stark was as alive as the first, Loki’s love. 

Beneath her hands, the pool shrank as the body grew, as the matter changed and rewove itself from water into bone, into muscle, into skin. Jotun skin, concealed by the glamour she wrapped it in, blue shining ever so briefly at the hems of the weave before it was covered, perhaps forever. 

She gifted it her own magic, though it would suit him ill at first, the flows and threads of growth and nurturing, women’s magic, but Loki’s hands were used to making their own tools, and the body it inhabited would feel no distress at its strangeness. Loki was a magic thing, needed power from the moment of his awakening, or else this being would react as Loki would - would panic, and then retreat to a place he could not be harmed, replace the defense of his magic with a physical shelter. 

Besides, Odin expected Loki to bear magic.

Frigga sighed, and dipped her fingertips into the cool water for an instant.

Loki had said that if Odin was so great a fool as to believe Loki would have surrendered, he deserved to be cheated. The thought had seemed to hearten Thor and amuse Tony, but Frigga, in the quiet, secret places of her mind where lived her love for her husband, thought otherwise.

Odin Allfather was wise and far-seeing, played out consequences like the waterways of a tributary, beginning from one source and dividing and overlapping until a thousand different conclusions were reached. And more than that, Odin was no fool.

He had seen how Loki reacted to challenge, had surely been watching him from the high seat, knew Loki’s power and thoughts. Loki had not taken pains, upon Midgard, to conceal his plans to give Tony’s friends a Tony Stark of their own that he might keep his lover to himself. Odin would at least have considered that Loki would attempt the same here.

And if that were the case, then he was permitting it.

Odin Allfather was not a man to lightly ignore his wife, and Frigga had asked for kindness. Imprisoning Loki once more, despite his knowledge that Loki was innocent of the crimes of which he had been accused, and had paid in full for those he _had_ committed, was not kind.

Yet Odin could not release Loki entirely, not without causing unrest among the court and the people who wished to see the believed-traitor punished. Nor would Odin share the truth - telling all of Loki’s torment would be cruelty almost beyond measure. 

But to keep a black-haired walking corpse in his dungeons, while secretly allowing Loki to go free - _that_ was kind.

Yet devious, all the same, still calculated to negate Loki’s threat. Perhaps Odin entrusted Loki to Tony’s guardianship, as he had left Thor to the mortals once before. Loki cared, above all, about Tony and Tony’s love for him, and that limited his actions. There was little mischief Loki would enjoy more than being in Tony’s company, and few terrors he could wreak that Tony would approve of. Odin would have seen for himself the changes that Tony had already caused in Loki, not dissimilar to those that Thor had borne.

Ah, she would have to remember to remind Thor of that. A resolution born of sorrow and loss, Thor’s conviction that he could never have the sweet, clever, courageous mortal he had met there. Jane Foster had showed generosity to a stranger, and such a thing Thor could never receive here. All Asgard knew the face of their prince, knew the duties they owed him, acted out of respect for his title and his father. Frigga had seen many women pass through her son’s bedchamber, with power-hungry eyes or power-hungry fathers pushing them forward. None had cared for Thor as a man, only as a prince. But Jane had wanted nothing, had owed nothing, had given all out of a true and good heart. Frigga would see Thor rightly value that heart, however much it pained him to return to the thoughts of her that he had so adamantly tried to forget.

She clucked her tongue as Loki’s body finished forming, hair rippling down to its shoulders and nails lining the tips of its toes. Her boys, born to power and privilege, heroes and kings, and still they needed their mother to guide them onto the right path.

They were Frigga’s sons first, whatever lofty destinies others had written for them. 

She felt the body tug away from the currents of her power; it was complete, alive if mindless, not a single thought, but a beating heart and fluttering breath. Then the weariness came over her, the drain of her power realized; she sighed and leaned into Thor’s warm hands that came to support her shoulders. He lifted her back to her feet, arm around her waist, a steady, firm presence. 

Her son was a grown man. It was a strange thought.

Supporting more of her weight than she cared to admit, Thor led her to a low bench. She sank down, a little weak, and nodded her gratitude. 

“You are well?”

She smiled at him and nodded again, and patted the seat beside her; he sat, folding himself up so as not to crowd her. “A moment’s rest is all I need.”

They looked together across the pool to where Loki knelt on the grass, Tony standing by his shoulder, and also lying flat on his back before them. Loki was breathing heavily, leaning forward on his hands, and Tony was shaking his head as he looked down on his almost-twin. “That is the weirdest thing I have ever seen.”

“Oh, come, Stark,” Loki said, voice rough with tiredness but amused all the same. “A man so vain as you surely knows well the sight of his own face.”

“Hey!” Tony slapped lightly at the back of Loki’s head, and Loki laughed, mockingly swaying forward as if struck a serious blow. “I’ll have you know I’ve spent significantly less time staring into mirrors since hooking up with you.”

“I am pleased to be of use.” Loki inhaled sharply and then pushed himself to his feet, dusting his hands against his thighs. “Though I ask that you not gift yourself to any more of your friends once this is done. It is quite the effort to recreate all that you are.”

“You’re telling me,” Tony said, and lifted a hand to lay against his chest.

Ah, that.

Frigga shuddered again at the memory of the terrible, gaping wound he had carried there, barely healed at all, metal fragments still trapped within his flesh, the chasm filled with a Midgardian device to prevent it from worsening. She had known Tony had been hurt; Loki had spoken of severe injuries to him, and wished for better healing than he could perform. He had not mentioned that Tony had been quite so harmed.

Well, whatever had begun the ghastly business, she had finished it. Tony was now as well as he ever had been before falling to that wound. 

The same now rested within the second Tony that Loki had made, and though she still disapproved of deliberately harming it, Tony had been the one to insist. _It’s a part of me, a part of who I was, who that guy_ is _. It needs to be there._ Loki had tied it into the mortal as he had worked; Frigga could see the device shining now, dim compared to the midday sun. 

Loki glanced across the pool to where his own copy lay, mindless and bare on the grass, and his hand twisted, summoning a figure to stand by its side. This third was one of Loki’s tricks of light, intended to fool observers but briefly; it stepped into the second, and lay down along it, inside it, and Loki’s fingers curled and settled together as the two of him merged, a body and a lie, the third having Loki’s mannerisms and moods, to animate the second. It would sit in Loki’s place in Odin’s dungeons. 

Poor thing. It was a mother’s instinct, but misplaced. She trusted Loki, and could feel for herself that there was nothing in that creature to receive her pity. Merely a tongue prepared with Loki’s words, and eyes prepared with Loki’s feelings, but none of its own. There was no _it_ to have such things.

Loki and Tony were walking together around the pool, Loki carrying Tony’s second in his arms. Tony had shed his surcoat and flung it over the naked form to shield it from their eyes; he had taken care to cover the glow of the device in his chest, and had all but ignored the privates that most men would have concealed. Not a shy man - a man of pride and power, confidence in himself, but vulnerable all the same.

_Oh, my Loki. However did you find one so perfect?_

Loki and Tony reached Frigga and Thor where they sat. Loki’s expression was thin and tense, and the jerk of his chin in acknowledgement of them was commanding and imperious, too distracted and impatient to soften it. “Come. I would have this done.”

She nodded, and waved her three boys away. “My blessings.”

She had done all she could for them. From here, this was their quest; Thor to win a crown, Loki to win Tony. 

Loki glanced at the other two, wrapped them in his magic, still shining with the gold light of wasted energy spilling over, imperfectly applied - _have you been practicing or not, child?_ The light flicked across the grass and then they were gone.

Frigga sighed out her tiredness and let the wind take it from her, relaxing back into the smooth wood of the bench. The hard work was finished. Odin had been persuaded, the doubles grown. A simple sleight of hand to exchange them, and Loki and Tony would leave for Midgard and their peace. There would be a feast to celebrate Thor’s return to Asgard and Loki’s loss, as there already had been twice when Thor had come back home. Odin’s people had short memories, and like their king, easily forgot things they did not wish to know. In a few weeks it would be as though Thor had never forsworn his father at all, as though Loki had never left his cell. Asgard would bask in her prince’s light, consider herself safe with the villain locked away. 

For now. It was a state of affairs Frigga would not let stand for long. Loki would be welcome back here one day; she would make sure of it.

_All_ her sons would have a home in her halls.

~ 

“And it’s _definitely_ going to be not-you who comes out of there?”

“ _Yes_ , Stark,” Loki repeated, testiness showing through his calm for the first time since Tony had started double-checking everything, and it wasn’t a good sign because Tony hadn’t been sure whether or not Loki had been faking, whether he’d run out of angst and stress while lurking behind Thor in Odin’s study. _Now_ he knew that Loki was breaking up inside, that he was forcing himself to hold it together, that as soon as he got a moment to himself he’d let it all go, and that sucked because Loki made stupid decisions when he was upset and alone, and Tony knew exactly why that was a bad idea because he did much the same thing. Panicked, acted first, thought second, and asked questions never, and with Loki being in this place at this time, the consequences of lashing out were literally _unthinkable_. 

Tony had seen the aftermath of what passed for justice in this golden shithole, and he didn’t even know if he _could_ imagine what Loki would get for attempting to skip out on said justice. What was the penalty for evading his sentence? What would Odin do if he found out that Loki was capable of leaving clones of himself all over the place, just as pissed off and powerful as him?

But once again, there was nothing Tony could do about it, so he sucked in a breath and tried to cool his head. _Trust Loki to get this right, you dumbass. Trust him._

And Tony did, otherwise he’d never have let this go so far, but it wasn’t reflex yet, not like trusting Pepper or Rhodey - it was still something he had to remind himself of, that Loki knew what he was doing, that he really had kicked the self-sacrifice habit for good, that Loki knew what screwing this up would do to Tony and he wouldn’t let that happen. Loki was going to take care of everything, and Tony just had to trust him.

Loki glanced down at their joined hands, long, cold fingers laced tightly through Tony’s own, and his tongue slid across his lips. “Remember this. Every word it speaks shall be a lie. Nothing it does in this room will be real.”

Tony swallowed. “Yeah.”

Because he’d still be watching Loki leave - that clone had Loki’s face, Loki’s voice, all of Loki’s memories, what else was Tony supposed to think? This was going to hurt like hell, no matter what Loki said. He’d _know_ it wasn’t real - he hoped he would - but that wouldn’t change the fact that Tony could read Loki’s face like a book, and everything written there would be pain and loss, and sue him if that made Tony’s world break in half.

“Remember it, because…” Loki hesitated again, this time turning his head away on an angle, hair falling down to hide him from Tony - but Tony could feel Loki’s eyes on him, wary and assessing and cautious, and Tony braced himself to calculate every word before he spoke, because Loki was in a mood to fuck everything up at the drop of a hat.

“It… It loves you less than I do, Stark. If I had not made it so it would never surrender itself in this way. So if… if it seems not to care, to be distant and strange to you, those are not my feelings. It _will not_ be me in this room. I beg you believe this of me, that you are nothing less than-”

“Hey.” Tony pulled the knot of their hands up to his lips, found cold skin and kissed it. “I do. I remember what you said. Loki mark two has deliberate design flaws. It’s not you. Okay? I believe you. I mean, you’ve got to believe that I’d never let you go without a fight, yeah? I’d raze this entire place to the ground and punch Odin into space before I let him take you. And I’ve just got to sit on my ass and watch you walk out that door like you’re never coming back. So yeah. It’s all a lie, and that goes for me, too.”

Loki looked back up and straightened his spine, and nodded. “I know.” His lips quirked a bitter smile at one corner. “It is hard, is it not? We must convince our enemies, and the more convincing we are the more we stain our allies. I have felt this twice today.”

“It’s just once more. This won’t take long, and then it’s just you and me. Get through this one more time, and we’re home safe.”

“Safe.” Loki nodded, and freed his hands from Tony’s and stood up, long coattails falling around his legs. 

Across the room, Thor stood up too, slowly and heavily. “Shall I bring him?”

Loki shook his head. “Wait.” He flexed his hand, the one still with the gash of his blood oath across it. “I have warnings for you as well. The thing that takes my place… it did not make you this vow. It is not your brother. I have not made it privy to our plans. In its eyes, you betrayed it, tore Stark from its arms, and sold it to your father that you might reclaim your throne and his love.”

Thor spluttered and Tony winced, because that wasn’t pretty, but it _was_ exactly what Asgard and Odin thought had happened so yeah, it did have to play out this way. Unfortunately.

But this was about Tony and Loki. They never got anything without _somebody_ hurting for it.

“It still loves you, of course, but whether it loves you more than it hates you I cannot say. I don’t know what _I_ would do if you truly did this to me. Whatever else, it will not trust you. _Do not_ trust it.”

Thor sighed. “I remember how not to trust you. I fear it is still easier than I would like.”

“Good. Make sure you-”

A smile played at Thor’s lips, put-upon and henpecked. “ _Yes_ , Loki. I know. I have aided your mischief in the past. This is another fine trick, and I know the shape of it.”

Loki rubbed his fingers across the cut, his promise and Thor’s in return. His face was pale and his lips thin and muscles leapt in his jaw, but he unbent just enough to nod. “Very well. Fetch Odin.”

Loki laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder, firm and strong even through the leather jacket and the shirt underneath, and then he strode off, boots loud on the smooth marble floor. Tony turned to watch him go into another room, disappearing from sight, before the other one came back out.

But Tony _only_ had Loki’s word for it that this was the fake one. Everything about it screamed _Loki_ \- there wasn’t a hair out of place and he had the same dust scuffed up the sides of his boots and his fingers were picking at each other like Loki’s had been a minute ago. Because Loki had mentioned this, that the software running the body could be updated, and he would have just now calibrated it to his exact mood, the restless, almost fearful energy, the dark moments of doubt. 

Thor had gone while Tony had been watching Loki; it was just the two of them in here, Tony and fake-Loki, mindless and thoughtless and nothing but a series of unintelligent programs reacting to stimuli. It wasn’t even an identical copy of Loki’s mental landscape - less obsessed with Tony, and more submissive, and stupid enough or crazy enough to actually believe that this was their best option. 

But that didn’t take away the fact that the rhythm of its strides across the floor was exactly the same as Loki’s, or the way its eyes instantly cut to Tony when it entered the room, or the worried little smile it gave that perfectly matched Loki’s. 

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat - he must have been allergic to something Asgardian, and Frigga’s magic healing hadn’t picked it up-

_Fuckfuckfuck the reactor’s_ gone _, how can it be gone, just like that - I’m not going to die even if Odin doesn’t go through with this-_

No, no. Not now. He was busy now, he had other things to think about, he wanted real-Loki to comfort him through the massive freakout that would be sorting out the easy, casual sweeping aside of his suddenly unnecessary life support, and he was not going to let himself think about it until then.

He inhaled, a lot, felt his chest expand far, and further, and the screaming tension in his body faded out as his brain got the message that this _didn’t hurt_. That Tony could take a deep breath, a huge breath, swell up his ribcage and press his lungs against his bones hard, and there was nothing in the way, and his allergies were getting worse because his throat was killing him now and his eyes were getting itchy, and this was ridiculous.

“Shh.” Loki’s hand - no, fake-Loki’s hand - came to rest on his shoulder, and Tony exhaled, breath shaking. “Calm yourself. It will be well.”

And that was Loki’s voice, too, a carbon copy, identical in every way. Except that it was only a copy - a good one, but _not_ the original. Tony had to hold on to that. Had to remember that _nothing_ in here counted, that everything between real-Loki leaving and coming back in was like a little bubble in the timestream. Loki wasn’t touching him, wasn’t telling him to _calm himself._

And there was his giveaway, there was Tony’s reassurance that nothing was right. Loki, his Loki - _Icicle_ would never have told him to just zip his lips and man up. Icicle would have held him, would have wrapped Tony in his arms and kissed his temple with cold lips and asked what was wrong, what he could do. This was Odin’s-prisoner-distant-stupid Loki, and the name rang clear in Tony’s head. 

_You’re not mine. You’re not even real._

He drew in another breath and let it out again, nice and shallow, and lifted his head back up. “Yeah. I know.”

Loki clapped him on the shoulder firmly, almost Thor-like, and let him go and started pacing across the room, through the empty space around where Tony sat, two sofas framing the Asgardian equivalent of a coffee table, low and long, all carved dark wood. Other tables stood against the walls, and several full bookcases, and Tony couldn’t even _imagine_ what the books would have been worth on Earth, all this knowledge they’d never dreamed of and worlds they’d never seen, even the stories they hadn’t heard, just the literature and poetry alone…

When Tony did start living in Asgard, he was going to have a hell of a lot to do.

“All these books, have you read them?”

Loki glanced up from his pacing like he was surprised that Tony had spoken. “Yes.” His eyebrow twitched and his lips parted on a snarl. “We can’t all be trained to become king someday. I had to find something to occupy my time, given that it was _worthless_ to anyone else.” 

That - that wasn’t right, Loki wouldn’t have said it like that, Loki didn’t _feel_ like that, he got bitter and sad first, anger came later, he never snapped to it like this. 

But clearly he _did_ , and Tony had only known Loki for two weeks so what the hell did he know-

_Everything it says is a lie._

Loki had made his copy almost too good. All of his warnings and Tony’s knowledge and the _proof_ that this wasn’t really Loki, and Tony was still taking the things it said seriously. 

He nodded at Loki, over on the other side of the room now. “Right. That’s gotta-”

The double doors leading to the hallway swung open, and Thor came through, folding his arms and setting his jaw firmly, obviously going to take no shit. He found himself a corner and leaned back into it like he was hiding, but that wasn’t the way Thor did things. Watching over all this, more likely, making sure he could see the entire room and everyone in it.

Two guards followed him, in stupid helmets and yellow capes, carrying spears that looked way too heavy and ornamental to actually be a threat to anyone except an epileptic, who might have fallen victim to the light glinting off the various ornate decorations. They took up station on either side of the open doorway like they were actually guarding something with any effectiveness whatsoever.

So Tony didn’t like those guys. Whatever.

A sharp breath from Loki, and another set of boots, and Odin All-fucking-father walked in, all kingly armor and shiny gold eyepatch sitting on his face - how did he keep that thing on, superglue? Sheer force of will?

Tony choked down his snigger and stood up, stony press conference face on; business at hand, the consummate professional. Totally a guy that Odin would _want_ to make immortal.

Odin raked his eye across Tony, and it went on to settle on Loki, still on the far side of the room, and Odin’s face went all tired and he sighed, like he really was just a father whose son was pissed at him and he wanted to sort things out before it was too late. “Loki-”

Loki’s voice cracked like a whip. “I have _nothing_ to say to you.”

Odin seemed to lean back without actually moving at all, but there was no denying he’d just been seriously slapped down. Then his face went firm, suddenly a lot like Thor’s, emotions and family banished, and he nodded and turned back to Tony.

The intensity of that stare probably should have been something that worried him at least a little bit, because this was a man who ruled literal gods, who could potentially destroy entire worlds within minutes, who’d had no problem with fucking up both of his sons beyond anything Howard had ever done, and who held Tony’s entire future in his hands. 

But Tony Stark had faced Thanos, who had at least as much power as Odin if not more, faced himself when he’d had nothing he could do to save himself from the palladium poisoning, and Pepper when he’d disappointed her. Odin had nothing on that.

Odin heaved another sigh, and geared himself up for chewing Tony out. “You still follow that lying monster?”

Loki hissed like an erupting volcano. “ _You_ -”

“You have nothing to say!”

Tony dared a glance over his shoulder to see Loki tense and white-faced, caught in the middle of striding forward to rip Odin’s head off, and his eyes flickered uncertainly to Tony, scared and vulnerable.

Tony sent him a confident smirk, and turned back to Loki’s asshole father/kidnapper. “Sure do.”

“And do you understand what it is he asks of you? Do you understand that those you love will age and wither, while you remain strong? Do you know the jealousy you will be victim to? The fear? You will bury one friend after another, and never see them in what passes for your afterlife. There will come a time you are no longer welcome among them at all. You will never be free of your burdens, of your faults, of your mistakes. Tony Stark of Midgard, are you not frightened by pain without end?”

“Yeah.”

Simple answer. The rest came almost as easily. 

“For over a year I’ve walked around knowing that at any moment, if anything changed, I’d have less than a week to live. And I still don’t know what it’s going to do to me to have that disappear, let alone the knowledge that I’m _never_ going to die. I don’t know what even another decade is going to do to me. My head’s not the happiest or sanest place in the world, and being stuck with myself, forever… yeah. That scares me. But you know what scares me worse?”

Tony flung out a hand, finger pointed right at Loki. “The thought of _him_ doing that without me.”

Odin bowed his head. His shoulders were slumped, spine curved forwards; he didn’t look very kingly, just old. And tired. Not the guy Tony wanted to see in charge of a planet. “You are a fool, but at least you are a fool with a great heart.”

Then he reached out and shoved his hand into Tony’s chest, and Tony jerked at the invasion of personal space-

His entire self flew apart in a raging whirlwind of _power_ , colors and volts by the millions screaming through him, his whole body boiling up with energy and strength, a cascade of it flowing through him, racing into every artery, every capillary, every _atom_ of his being. Layers and layers of him were peeled apart and replaced and fused back together, on and on, replicating in a surge up his body, bright and resolute and _there_ , a weighty sense of _reality_ to it, like it was denser than anything else he’d felt before, a new form of matter, of energy, of what it meant to be Tony Stark, to be alive…

To _be._

_Or not to be._

Tony almost giggled.

Which was stupid and inappropriate and not really the first thing he wanted to do with his new super-body, so instead he took a breath, a deep breath, because he _could_ , and opened his eyes.

He’d fallen back to the couch at some point, slumped against the back, and it was Loki, not Odin, in front of him, crouched down with his hands pressed to the cushions, framing Tony’s thighs.

“Did it work?”

Was that even a question? Couldn’t he _tell?_ It was a rush like a thousand espresso shots, reams of strength and energy beneath his skin just waiting to be used, like he could run up Everest without even trying - but better than espresso because he didn’t feel like he _needed_ to, nothing was screaming for an outlet, for relief, to be used up and cleaned out of his system. He _could_ stay up for days right now, could make a thousand breakthroughs, could conquer cities and punch a hole clean through Odin’s head… or he could quietly collect Icicle and go road-test the hot tub in their hideaway in New Zealand.

He could do _anything._

Tony grinned. “Yeah, it worked.”

“Good.” Odin’s hand landed hard on Loki’s shoulder and pulled him back a little, and Loki staggered to his feet and spun to face him. “Come. Enough.”

Loki’s eyes widened in shock and fear, and a cold chill rushed through Tony’s chest - god, Odin meant to do this _now?_ Right now? Their time had run out, there wasn’t even one moment, one _word_ left, Tony had just gotten everything he wanted and now he was going to lose it all again-

_No, it’s not like that, it isn’t - I’m not really losing Loki-_

But what if Loki had screwed up? What if the clone hadn’t worked after all, and this _was_ Loki here, faking the clone’s differences to fool Tony, what if Tony would walk into that other room and nobody would be there?

“One minute,” Loki said, voice brittle. “Please.”

One minute, one, and this might have actually been real, could have been Loki standing here, about to be swallowed up by Asgard _again_.

_Then I’ll get him back. This isn’t the end even if it_ is _Loki._

Loki spun away and leaned back down over Tony before Odin said anything else, grabbed one of his wrists in that Asgardian grip and rested the other hand on his chest, right where the arc reactor had been, where Loki would feel his heartbeat even through the leather. “I will find you. When they have done with me.” His eyes were burning with his promise, bright and fixed on Tony’s.

Then the spark faded, and his mouth quirked bitterly. “If there’s anything left of me by then.”

It couldn’t be Loki. Loki wouldn’t give up so easily. Couldn’t ever believe that neither he nor Tony would do anything to get him out of this - couldn’t think that if everything else failed, Tony wouldn’t just get himself locked in with Loki, because being together was better than being free. This had to be the fake. Had to be. Something would have given the real Loki away if he’d tried to say that. Something.

This was only a program, a lie, a trick. The whole thing was a trick.

But if it wasn’t… If he only had one thing to say to Loki, if there was one thing he could give to him when there was nothing else left… Tony swallowed, and gripped Loki’s wrist hard and reached out with his other hand, cupped the back of Loki’s neck, the fall of black hair. “Make sure there is.”

_Because I love you. Because I need you. Because I can only get through this if_ you _get through it._

_Because I’ll never let you lose yourself again._

Loki’s eyes had gone dull like green rocks, didn’t light up or acknowledge Tony, like he was already in that cell and he’d shut down to save himself the pain. He slipped away from Tony like water through his fingers, easy as that, straightened up and headed for the door.

The gasping sob ripped itself out of Tony’s chest before he could choke it back, but hell no, he wouldn’t lose it in front of Odin, wouldn’t give the old bastard the satisfaction of thinking he’d won - but that was the whole fucking _point_ here, wasn’t it, and if Thor could play double agent and Loki could buy Tony’s salvation from a man he’d rather kill than ever see again, then Tony could fucking well let himself cry. He let go, let out the worry and the doubt and the _maybe, maybe it’s really Loki_ , the stress and the _want-_

Tony fought it down again, eyes on Loki, one last time just in case it _was_ the last time, he wasn’t taking risks with this. Loki’s strides were calm and measured as he headed for the doors, but Thor’s, stepping out of his lurking corner, were rough and shaky, and Thor’s hand as he reached out for Loki was no better. “Brother-”

Loki didn’t even stop walking, didn’t even _look_ at Thor. Thor’s whole demeanor melted, left him stunned and kicked and with no idea what had just happened, no idea how to react to Loki’s complete _lack_ of reaction, not even the stiff goodbye he’d given Tony. Tony’s heart was aching for Thor, for himself, for Loki in the other room watching them, watching himself break the people he loved like this. 

Loki walked between the guards and they fell into step behind him, yellow capes swishing, hiding Loki from view before he’d even rounded the doors, and just like that he was gone. Odin drifted away and Thor trailed after him and the doors swung closed but that didn’t even matter, didn’t make a difference, because Loki had vanished long before, had just gone, had left Tony alone…

_Wait._

Tony jumped up and raced for the other doors, yanked them open and leapt through, looking for-

Loki was standing right there, hands knotted behind his back, blood oozing out around where his nails dug into the flesh of his palm, shoulders hunched under his coat. 

“Loki?”

His head snapped up and he spun around and glanced across Tony’s face once and grinned, joy and pleasure and love, all the love the clone hadn’t shown. “ _Stark…_ ”

Both his hands seized Tony’s, his skin warm and-

_No._

The overwhelming _wrong_ slapped Tony in the face. 

This wasn’t Loki.


	8. Weep

_No. No, no, no!_

_What have I done?_

_What have I done to him?_

Stark’s fire was gone. 

His hands were barely even warm to Loki’s touch, nothing like the searing, leaping heat he had once been filled with. Where was the burning rush settled in Stark’s skin, the proof of his great heart? How could Stark have been lessened like this? Stark’s hands were Aesir beyond doubt, held power and density and strength akin to Thor’s, and Loki could feel the new life surging through him - but that was all he could feel.

Where had it gone wrong? What had Loki _done?_

“Stark-”

Loki met Stark’s eyes, and flinched. They were flat and hard, unwelcoming, and Loki stared, for surely he had to be wrong, he was distracted or - or victim of a trick of the light, for Stark would never look at Loki in such a way.

But Stark’s expression did not change, all distance and coldness-

Stark took a step back and lifted his chin, angry and stiff. “Why?”

Why what? Loki just shook his head, his tongue limp and his throat dry, the words never reaching his lips.

Stark folded his arms across his chest as if he needed to restrain himself, to contain the limitless strength he now held. “I know what he’s done. And I think I know how. But why… I’m missing the why.”

“Stark, what…”

“See, habits are hard to break,” Stark said, voice falsely light and careless. “And they tend to lurk around when you think they’ve gone. It’s not like he’s never tried this before.” He laughed, humorless and bitter. “Should have seen it coming, really. God of lies, isn’t he? Not like I’m anything special there. Not like he’d never lie to _me_ or anything.”

_What have I done?_

“I have never lied to-”

“Sure _you_ haven’t. You’re all of fifteen minutes old. You’re his goddamn _answering machine!_ ”

“ _Stark, please!_ ” Loki reached out for him. “Tell me what you accuse me of!”

Stark stepped away and jerked his head at the door. “Loki’s gone. The real one. He never swapped with you at all. He’s gone, and he left _you_ here instead. Or don’t you know you’re the clone? Tell me he explained this to you, tell me you’re in on it too.”

There was nothing to be in on - Loki _had_ swapped - he wasn’t the clone, couldn’t Stark tell them apart? Had he not seen the double’s withdrawal, the distance Loki had created between them? Why did Stark no longer trust Loki’s promises?

_Why did he ever-_

No, not this time, Stark had proven himself better than that, worthy of whatever trust Loki was capable of - but how had Loki failed to prove himself likewise?

“ _Why?_ Did he think Odin wouldn’t be fooled? That it’d be easier to leave _me_ with the fake? Or was it nastier than that? Did Odin get to him? Thor’s a liar, too, Loki said it himself and he’d know. What was the deal _really?_ My life for his? I’d get immortality only if he gave himself up?” 

“Stop,” Loki whispered, desperate, Stark’s words like acid against his skin. Stark could not truly believe what he was saying, could not doubt Loki so. Even if Loki would ever go back willingly, he would never be so selfless and so whole as to leave Stark behind. If Odin took Loki then he would drag Stark down with him, and Stark would clutch his hands and hold on.

But he had made Stark an Aesir, now, and did not every Aesir harbor hate for Loki?

_No, not all, Thor and Mother, not them - but why him?_

“Why are you saying this?”

“Your hands.”

“What?”

Stark rolled his eyes, and reached out to seize one of Loki’s hands roughly. “I call him Icicle for a reason, you know, and _your_ hands are warm.” He jerked back as though he could no longer bear to touch Loki. “I know what he feels like, and it’s not like you.”

Stark glanced down at his hand and his lips twisted in disgust; he lifted it to wipe the palm against his jacket, leaving a barely visible smear on the dark red leather.

Loki’s blood-

Loki raised his open hand and stretched the cut bearing his oath to Thor. “Did it bear this wound? Did press Thor’s against its own and swear its love? You saw me do this, Stark. You shouted for me to stop, you feared my pain _then,_ ” for all he caused it now.

Stark’s eyes lit - oh, it was over, Loki had him - before the light died and his jaw firmed.

_No…_

“Magic,” Stark shrugged. “And who’s to say he didn’t slash your hand for you?”

“ _I did this._ ” Loki forced the words through gritted teeth. _Something_ had to reach Stark, there had to be something that would convince him, that he would trust.

_Summon, grasp -_ he took the knife back to hand and ripped the blade across his palm. “I swear-” Stark had not moved, not yet - Loki set the point back in his flesh and cut again, “I am-” still nothing, he needed more- “ _yours_.” A third strike, leaving his whole palm wet with blood, red lines pouring to the floor. 

But still Stark refused him, his arms folded, leaning back, eyes on Loki’s hand as though he needed to examine it, as though that too was another of his lies.

And could it not have been? Would his double have done any differently? It did love Stark less than Loki, but if threatened with Stark’s hate, were there _any_ lengths to which it would not go?

It did not matter. Loki had tried words, tried promises, and Stark would not stay for them. There was nothing else Loki was willing to do. Stark would never be content with the double, flawed and simple and barely even alive; it would take chains to keep Stark at Loki’s side if he judged Loki to be such, and Stark would not be Loki’s Stark if he were unwilling.

Stark would go, and Loki could not stop him. _Would_ not.

_At least I had him._

Loki had known something other than suffering and darkness, had found something to cling to other than power, even if he might now let it go. He had held Stark in his arms, and even though he lost him now, he could not lose that.

_I had him._

_I had everything._

He sank to his knees, bleak void pouring through his veins, his marrow sucked from his bones; he landed hard upon the marble and felt the impact echo inside his empty chest, hollow and numb and nothing.

The bright gleam of the knife met his eyes, metal shining, promising him an end to it all, and this time he would not be dragged back. There would be no tormentors to catch him, no healers to revive him, he would finally drift into the dark where he belonged and all thoughts of Stark would fade. What was Loki without Stark? Why should he live if his life walked away from him?

His bloody hand burned, his oath a brand across it.

_Thor._

Loki could not take Thor’s brother from him, not again.

_Thor, I can do it for Thor. Live for Thor. Suffer for Thor. I knelt before the Allfather to win his life, I can bear Stark’s loss for his happiness._

_Can I? Can I?_

Loki threw the knife aside, killed the choice in case he would choose wrongly; it skittered across the floor to hit Stark’s boots. “Take that with you,” and his throat ached fit to tear itself apart, “before I do something I should not.”

Stark laughed, bitter and angry, and bent to scoop it up. “Really? _If I can’t have you no-one can_ , is that what you’re saying here? Should I be grateful I didn’t get this in the back?”

_No, no, please, you cannot think I would hurt you_ \- “Take it from me before I leave Thor as well as you with nothing but that shadow.”

“You- you wouldn’t.” Stark shook his head. “Giving up like this? He _always_ stands up, you fucker, we both know that. Whatever it takes, however long, he comes back.”

“Not from this.”

There was nothing he could do to save himself from this. No words would convince Stark to turn back now, no pleas would keep him by Loki’s side. Blades and slaughter and magic would not change his mind. Loki would watch Stark walk through that door to never return, and then…

He had led armies upon one world to save Thor’s life; how far would he go to drown out the sound of his own screams? How much destruction might he cause to make thoughts of Stark bearable amid the ruins? If he searched for pain worse than this, for anything but this, how many would pay the price?

And what would Loki be doing but proving beyond a doubt that Stark should never have loved him?

_Brother, save me._

He had to find Thor, had to make him chain Loki down hand and foot in Odin’s cell, guarded and disarmed and defeated - if Stark did not trust Loki then he could not trust himself, and worlds would drown in Loki’s grief if he were allowed to let it free.

_If I fall I won’t come back again._

“Why?”

Loki looked up through the haze of his tears and the hanging black curtain of his hair. Standing before him, Stark’s arms were folded across his chest, his jaw set firmly, his skin too pale, eyes trembling where they flickered back and forth between Loki’s. “If you think losing me is going to kill you, why the hell are you letting me go?”

Why? He did not know? Oh, small wonder that he turned from Loki now, if Loki had done so little to tell Stark of his love. Loki had failed, and this was his punishment. “Because I wish nothing but your happiness, and if you cannot find it here then you must go. You do not want me. _Enough._ I beg you, no more waiting. _Leave me_.” His throat closed on his own tears, choked his breath and voice from him, and he hung his head and curled his fists against the floor.

He had sworn it in Stark’s bedchamber only yesterday, Stark lying asleep after the terror he had fallen into; he would do whatever it took to see Stark whole again. 

Loki could do anything if it pleased Stark. 

Stark’s indrawn breath was loud and shaking, the barest edge of his calm left in place, and his boots stepped closer, slowly, the sound soft against the marble. “You’d really let me walk away?”

Loki drew in a breath, and spoke to the floor, cold and hard and uncaring, easier to lay eyes on than whatever was in Stark’s face. “You are not my possession, not my slave, not my whore. You are-” _my heart, my life, my fire_ , _do you think I’ll deny you anything you want,_ “you belong to no-one but yourself and you may walk wherever you wish.”

Stark’s hand, harsh and firm and too cool, gripped Loki’s jaw, forced his head up to meet Stark’s eyes, all dark agony - his or Loki’s?

Once, there would have been no difference.

“All those things you told me. _Mine._ You’ve said that so many times. You’re just taking it back now?”

Loki shook his head slowly, caught in the prison of Stark’s hand, and felt his tears running down to meet Stark’s fingers. “I’m not taking it. You’re giving it to me.”

_Why?_

_Your hands are warm_ , Stark had said, _Loki doesn’t feel like you._ But Stark did not feel like Stark, either, the skin against Loki’s filled with strange power in place of the searing heat Loki had so loved. Asgardian hands.

_Upon my Asgardian glamour._

Oh. Oh, that… The spell fooled Asgardians better than others, Loki knew that for a fact, the truth would have come out long ago if Loki had felt cold to every hand. Stark had seen through it, mortal touch slipping through spaces others could not, but now…

Now they felt alike, bland Asgardian warmth, the glamour to hide the sight of Loki’s form catching the chill of his skin along with it.

Loki lifted a hand and wrapped his fingers gently around Stark’s wrist, felt the strength and the trembling pulse beneath his grip. If he truly wanted Loki’s cold, he would not hate him for this.

_No more than he does already._

Loki had nothing left to lose.

“Forgive me,” he breathed, and reached out and pulled the glamour back.

His mother’s gift rolled easily into itself, sliding over his skin like silk, retreating from the awful blue, and Loki shut his eyes to hide from the sight. 

Stark’s wrist burned against his hand.

“The glamour fools every Asgardian, not just you,” Loki said softly. “If you want me as you knew me, if you would feel my skin and nothing but, this is what you must have.”

It crawled up his neck and over his jaw, and Stark’s hand there turned to streaks of fire across his skin, sinking down into the bone, dancing lightly on the edge of pain, so perfect and welcome and _Stark._ Oh, Loki had missed this, too, shied from the touch of those cool stranger’s hands, but these… This was Stark still, Asgardian or no, all power and light and heat, Loki’s fire. 

_Burn me. If you have any mercy, you will burn me. Take all the cold you wish._

Stark’s grip firmed, and then fell away, pulling his wrist from Loki’s hand. “Get up.”

No mercy today, then. Loki staggered to his feet, aching, body heavy and longing to fall back to the floor, to lay the Jotun at the Aesir’s feet where he belonged. Stark had forgiven Loki for what he was, but that had been a mortal; _now_ Loki stood his race’s loathed enemy, had dared to touch him with these hands. Had he not trespassed far enough already?

_No._ It was Stark who had lost faith here; Loki still trusted the man who had wanted to bed him like this, who had called it _amazing_ , who had barely noticed it the first time he had seen it, consumed instead by relief at Loki’s wellbeing, whatever color his skin. 

But, but… then why did Stark stare at him so fiercely, why did he not hold Loki close?

Stark’s hand returned to Loki’s cheek, shimmering heat, and he tilted Loki’s head just so and leaned in, lips parted and eyes falling closed. Oh, he would kill Loki like this; why did he not simply _leave_ him? Why the farewell?

_Please don’t…_

But Loki did not have the strength to deny himself their last kiss.

Stark’s lips were soft and hot and slick against his own, the lips Loki knew so well, had felt upon every inch of his skin. Loki’s tongue flickered forward and met Stark’s, the tips sliding together, smooth and wet, and Loki chased it down one last time, tangled them together, tasted Stark’s heat. Stark pushed him back to suckle at Loki’s lip, and he bit down upon it and Loki gasped, arched into Stark’s hungry mouth, lifted his hands to pull him closer and press their lips together once more.

_Once more._

But Stark broke away, a hand over his mouth, the other against Loki’s chest, holding him at arm’s length, and Loki’s lips were warm with Stark’s stolen heat, tingling with the last traces of his skin; Loki’s heart raced in his chest, half-lust, half-panic - it was over, Stark would leave, leave Loki to his misery and despair and to hurl himself back into Odin’s chains in Stark’s name, protect the realms from his grief.

_I knew love._

_I was wanted._

_Thank you._

_I’m sorry._

Loki inhaled, felt the cold air pour over his lips and chill them back to where they belonged, and stepped back from Stark. There.  

But Stark’s hand grabbed at Loki’s, hot and desperate, fingers shaking. “Icicle?”

Loki’s name, _I call him Icicle for a reason_ , and oh, this was cruel. “Please… you’re too kind for that. No more.” 

Stark’s eyes widened. “It _is_ you.”

And now he wept, water spilling over. His hands found Loki’s chest, writhed into his garments before he all but collapsed, his head falling between his white knuckles, hard and heavy.

“Oh, god, I’m so stupid - but I needed proof, needed to _know_ \- had to-” His words shattered in the sobs, and his whole body shook, trembling against Loki’s. “What have I - I’m sorry, so sorry, oh god…”

“Be sure,” Loki whispered. His bloodied hand rose to clutch at Stark’s back, grasping desperately for him, but he could not surrender yet. Could not hope when Stark might yet change his mind again. If Stark could doubt, then so could Loki. “Be sure.”

“I am, I know, I fucked up, that’s what I do…” Stark inhaled a shuddering breath, back heaving, and choked out the words. “God, Loki, I’m sure - Icicle, I swear I mean it, I… Wait.”

He struggled to lift his head, eyes and cheeks flushed red with tears, and, perhaps, shame, but he met Loki’s gaze evenly. Not cursing Loki for a liar, for a lie, not fleeing to find where Loki had _truly_ gone - then what now, what more?

Stark pried his hands away from Loki’s chest and held up the knife he had kept tucked in his grasp, and set the tip to the palm of his other hand and slid it across.

He held it open between them, a welling line of red filling the long cut, and then Stark reached out and laid his hand on Loki’s cheek, a glorious streak of liquid fire where his blood caressed Loki’s skin. “I swear. Just like you guys do when you really, really mean it. Right? I believe you. You’re _mine-_ ”

His voice broke and his eyes fell, his head bowing a moment later, hanging down towards the ground; he was at the edge of what he had left.

But Loki was standing at that edge.

Stark was in Loki’s arms in the next instant, real and familiar and _here_ , and Loki held him tightly against his chest and pressed his face against Stark’s neck, soft leather, warm skin, the scent of him. So close, so close, how could they have come so close to losing this - Loki was sobbing, he could feel the great choking cries ripping through his throat - it wasn’t meant to happen this way, Stark was Aesir now, that should have fixed this-

_You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you?_

Stark challenged, Stark questioned - it was what he did, he lived on proof and fact and what he could see, what he could build and know with his own hands. And Loki was far, far too good at what _he_ did, lies and deception and trickery and plots that spun beyond even his control, at convincing others to believe what he wished. He had caught Stark in that net, despite all his warnings, all Stark’s assurances; they were both too much themselves to escape so lightly.

Stark’s knees buckled, or perhaps Loki’s gave way first, and they fell. Loki clutched Stark to him harder, landed badly without his hands to catch him, dull pain in his hip and ankles twisted, but he would break bones before letting Stark go, and he could feel the claws of Stark’s hands in his back.

“I’m sorry,” Stark was saying, thick through his tears, over and over again, “I’m sorry,” and “I know,” and Loki could hear himself saying it back, feel the words spilling from his lips without thought or control of them.

But that didn’t matter - he still had Stark. Stark had stayed. Stark had found him.

They were both fools, damned fools, but this would merely settle among their other scars, in good company. This was not the first time either of them had broken, and it would not be the last, and they would survive it.

Stark’s breath hitched and Loki swallowed his, silenced himself to hear Stark cough and clear his throat. “Look at us. At this rate, if we don’t kill each other it’ll be a miracle.”

Loki’s laugh came out as another sob, but there was joy in it. “You’re a god, too, now. I think we can arrange a miracle.”


	9. Trust

“What convinced you?”

Hell. 

Tony was Asgardian now, so Loki’s hold around his waist wasn’t unbreakable, and if he wanted out then Loki probably couldn’t keep him here, it wasn’t like he _had_ to sit and talk about his complete and utter betrayal.

God, what had convinced him wasn’t the worst part, that was fine - but the fact that he’d _needed_ convincing in the first place, that went against _everything_. It had been so _easy_ to assume that Loki had screwed him over, had lied to him after all, so simple to take one piece of evidence and overthrow every promise, every word, every _breath_ Loki had ever given him.

Tony should have known that Loki wouldn’t let him go that easily. Tony should have known that after everything Loki had been through - after everything _Tony_ had put him through - Loki would never, ever, do the same to him. God, if there had really been no other way out of this, Tony would have gotten himself locked up with Loki, that was the way it worked, they stayed together.

And then Tony had changed species, become a _god_ , felt completely different to himself, all power and energy and wholeness, no arc reactor, no tiredness or pain, and in the middle of all these changes _of course_ Loki hadn’t felt the same either, but Tony hadn’t spared half a second to work that out.

Until it had been way too late, and Loki had already been on his knees, had already surrendered, had just waited for Tony to do whatever he wanted because pleasing Tony meant loads more than Loki’s sanity. 

And then Loki had stripped himself raw, almost to the bone, offered Tony the blue skin he loathed, one last attempt to keep him.

_And that still hadn’t been enough._

Loki had left himself open and vulnerable, Jotun, and it still hadn’t been enough.

He’d been crying when he’d told Tony about what that word meant, curled up against Tony’s chest, cheek pressed to the reactor, Asgardian skin solidly in place, and the lights turned off just in case it slipped. Loki’s voice had been numb and emotionless, locked down hard, and only the growing dampness against Tony’s skin had given Loki’s tears away as he’d talked about pain and monsters and disgust. How he’d tried to destroy an entire world just so he wouldn’t have to belong to it - he couldn’t be Jotun if Jotunheim didn’t exist.

And he’d changed anyway, because Tony had demanded he be cold. 

And like the stupid, blind, arrogant failure he was, Tony had demanded _more_. Had pushed Loki past his breaking point, hadn’t been kind enough to just turn and walk away, had tempted him with everything Tony had had to offer and forced _Loki_ to step back. Loki had promised he wouldn’t have stopped Tony from leaving, and Tony had looked him in the eye and called him a liar and made him prove it.

“You let me go.”

“I…”

“ _You may walk wherever you wish_. That’s what you said. And then I kissed you. Gave you everything you couldn’t have, and you still let me go. Didn’t stop me. I’d made my choice and you let it stand. You loved me. You loved me more than _us_. Forever. You really did just want me to be happy, whatever it took.” He laughed because it was that or cry. “Fuck, I was right. You are a self-sacrificing bastard.”

Loki drew in a desperate, forced breath, and buried his forehead against the join of Tony’s neck and shoulder. “What would you have had me do? Lock the doors and imprison you? Steal your will as I stole Barton’s? There was no sacrifice, I fought for you and I lost-”

“Stop, _stop_ , please, this wasn’t your fault, okay, this was _all_ on me. _I_ turned on you. God, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize - but it made so much _sense_ , you felt _wrong_ -” warm, as if the frost giant thing would have gone unnoticed if Loki had felt that way to Asgardians, it made so much _more_ sense than what Tony had thought, but that was the problem, wasn’t it - “I just didn’t _think_ , I’m so stupid-”

“No.” Loki’s hand fumbled for Tony’s and gripped it tightly, weird glamour heat coming off his skin. “Never that.” His palm was lined with sweat. “But it matters not. It is over. I survived. You believed me. Anything else, I do not care about.”

“You threw me your knife so you wouldn’t _kill yourself_ , how does that not matter?”

“Because you took it from me. I lived long enough for you to come back to me.” Loki sucked in another breath and lifted his head to rest it against Tony’s, leaning into him, pulled Tony harder against his chest. “I once trod your path, you remember. Upon the Chitauri world I called you Thanos’s thrall, believed you the puppet of another hand. And what from that day do you still care for? What is the only thing that still matters?”

Tony swallowed. “You changed your mind.” _You let me convince you, you saw the truth, you came back to me and you stayed._

“And I doubted you before that, the day you came to Asgard for me. You stood before the entire assembled court and shouted down Odin Allfather for my sake. And when he tore my glamour from me, I believed your heart would call me a monster. I begged Thor to find us another place to flee. I thought I would mean nothing to you, this vile creature without the magic you so coveted. And you…”

Tony had just hugged him. Demanded to know if he was okay. What had happened. The whole _blue_ thing had been an afterthought, because Loki had still been alive and standing and Thor had been bleeding, and Tony had had bigger things to think about than Asgardians apparently being chameleons. He hadn’t even realized then that that wasn’t par for the course, that Loki wasn’t technically Asgardian. 

“You proved me wrong. And you did it again. All my fears, all the torment, and you took them from me and tossed them aside as though they were nothing.” He gave a bitter sigh. “You are not the only one who wishes for more faith. All the times I have shown it to you, and again I worried my true skin would not please you.”

Well, yeah. Tony was Asgardian, and they - _we_ \- hated frost giants. If anyone had walked through that door while Loki had looked like that they’d probably have tried to kill him on sight; this planet loathed his entire species. 

Well, tough. Tony would take the immortality but he had enough baggage of his own, he wasn’t about to pick up their cultural bullshit. Loki was proud and strong and beautiful and Tony’s, and he wasn’t about to give him up because of some war that had happened back before even _Loki_ had been born, let alone Tony.

_No, you’ll give him up because his hands are warm!_

But that didn’t matter, just like Loki said, it had been a mistake and they’d _fixed_ it, and hadn’t Tony known this about Loki all along? That they could make mistakes and it would be okay because they were stronger?

“You please me. Idiot.”

Tony felt Loki’s cheek twitch as he smiled. “Insolent cur.”

“Asshole.”

“Oh, but you’re very fond of that.”

Tony grinned, and reached around Loki’s body to grope him, grab a handful of firm muscle under the tight leather pants. “Pretty fond, yeah.”

He’d be glorious, if and when he let Tony fuck him blue, alien and divine and beautiful, and Tony would save up enough cold to feel it even when Loki put his glamour back, would wipe every single doubt out of the corners of Loki’s mind, convince him that he would never not be Tony’s. God, he wanted Loki to know that, wanted both of them to be _sure_ , right now, that Tony would never let this happen again, never let _anything_ pull them apart.

And Tony wouldn’t say _no_ to thoroughly road-testing his new body, either.

But not here. Tony was a jerk but not so much of a jerk as to not realize that Loki didn’t want to stay in Asgard a second longer than necessary. And while it would have been really, really nice to fuck the bad memories out of this place, there were a _thousand years_ of those memories, and it wasn’t like Tony thought Afghanistan was sexy, either. This would take time and care, and maybe Tony sucked at both but at least he knew he had to try.

Also, Tony’s copy - _Anthony_ , the guy would hate them for calling him that but it wasn’t like they wanted him to like Loki - was asleep in the next room and could walk in here at any moment, and they really didn’t want to give him any reasons to fall in love with Loki like Tony had. Besides, that guy belonged to Pepper, and it would have been just cruel to give him an eyeful of what he was missing out on.

Tony peeled his hand from Loki’s ass and tangled their fingers together. “So. The other me. Any idea when he’s going to wake up?”

Loki shook his head, hair flicking across Tony’s cheek. “Soon. Nothing more.” 

“We need to work out how we’re going to play this. Because if we go wrong he’ll fall in love with you just like I did. All the groundwork’s still there.”

Loki laughed softly. “I highly doubt we can make him so desperate as to fuck me to save his own life.”

“That’s not where it started. I was fascinated long before that.”

A silent beat. Tony couldn’t see them, but Loki’s eyebrows were probably quirked up. “Truly?”

“I’ve wanted to know about your magic since Invasion Day. Plus you were pretty and you didn’t back down even after I beat your ass. _I’ll have that drink now_ , Jesus, do you know how hard it was not to demand Earth get to keep you? I wanted to get you all the drinks you asked for and hope I’d put you in a good enough mood to talk shop. We only sucked the last couple weeks out of Anthony’s head. The rest of that is still there.”

“Well, then.” Loki nodded decisively, chin brushing Tony’s shoulder. “He’ll want nothing to do with me. I assure you, I know how to be repulsive.”

Tony sniggered, he couldn’t help it, it should have been tragic but it just wasn’t, something in the way Loki had said it, like he’d get a kick out of this, and he probably was, Loki being Loki.

He squeezed Loki’s hand, nice and firmly so he could actually feel it - and felt the bones actually give a little, heard Loki’s gasp of something maybe approaching pain, and _what - pain, Loki was in pain-_

Tony ripped his hand away and flung himself out of Loki’s arms, crashed into the other end of the couch and stared at the bloodless outlines of his own fingers marking Loki’s hand. “Fuck, did I hurt you? I can hurt you, _god_ , I could - what _am_ I?”

Even the Hulk had barely scraped Loki up, he was supposed to be indestructible, but Tony could hurt him, could hurt him just through _carelessness_ , just forgetting what he was capable of-

Loki’s warm hand cupped Tony’s cheek and held him firmly, made him meet Loki’s eyes, green and deep and focused on his, made Tony stare right back. “You’re an Aesir who thinks he’s a mortal. It will take time.” His pale lips quirked, and his eyes glowed red for just a second. “But then, I am a Jotun who thinks he’s an Aesir. You stand in good company.”

Yeah. Yeah, that’d do. Loki would get him through this. Loki had had _way_ more than enough of Tony’s crises; he knew by now how to nip them in the bud and get Tony back on his feet and running for the next one.

And Loki knew what it felt like for your own body to not be really quite _yours_. At least Tony loved the idea of immortality and strength and maybe pinning Loki face-down in the pillows - okay, definitely loved that idea, that would be a great way to get used to this. But Loki still had this whole self-loathing thing going on, and as much as Tony would try very, very hard, it wouldn’t be resolved with simply fucking him into loving himself

And it wouldn’t be resolved today either. Probably at least the next decade would be a mess of reciprocal therapy and attempts to convince the other that _hey, I love you for a reason, you idiot._ But they had that decade now, and the next one, and the next, and as many as they could possibly get their hands on, because Tony was _immortal_ and he was sticking around and god, his life was _awesome_ even if he did freak out about it sometimes.

Plus, there’d be time and space to do other things. Fuck, for one. Mountain hiking, for another, maybe camping - Loki had said he’d loved both when he’d been a kid, centuries ago, and Tony had never had the time to try either before. He’d promised snowball fights for winter. They’d probably have to knock the house down and rebuild it from scratch with materials up to their weight class, because fucking Loki _literally_ through a wall was _not_ on Tony’s do-to list.

Well, not more than once.

Loki smiled at Tony’s calm, and nodded. _I’ve got you._

Then he tipped his head to the side, eyes sliding across the room. “Anthony is awake.” 

Oh, this would be fun.

Loki cleared his throat and peeled himself off the couch to stand beside Tony, and reached down to lift Tony’s hand to his warm, thin lips. “A little distance, then? We cannot let him consider the possibility of wanting me.”

Tony pouted, but it really was for the best. And Loki only dropped his hand and went over to the second couch on the other side of the not-a-coffee-table, anyway, so it wasn’t like Tony couldn’t see him or anything. But sue him if he’d had a long and shitty day and just wanted some comfort.

He grabbed up a cushion from the end of his couch and hugged it defiantly like that would make anything better. 

It kind of did.

Because it smelled like Loki, and Tony was getting all emotional and sappy these days but loss of dignity aside, it had to be better than when he’d been alone and thought he’d been happy that way.

~

The doors to the bedchamber flew open, and Anthony strode through them, composed and wary, Stark’s borrowed face steady and prepared for whatever it was he searched for. 

He bore all Stark’s fire and intensity, courage at awakening in a strange place, directly seeking out whatever had brought him here. Yes, Loki had done well. If Stark had not been lying opposite him, he would have been hard-pressed not to take Anthony in his arms and comfort him. 

But Stark was, and Stark was grinning across at Loki. Loki flickered the briefest smirk back, unashamed, for he would indeed enjoy this, and turned to Anthony.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said, casual as if his entire plan for Stark’s wellbeing did not hinge upon this man’s compliance. 

Anthony’s face twisted in anger and, perhaps, fear, but he hid it well. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Loki arched an eyebrow and played along. “Considering that these are _my_ chambers, Anthony, I think I should be asking you that.”

Anthony’s expression ran from stunned to disgusted to annoyed in an instant, and Loki wanted to laugh. Oh, this was _easy_ , coming at him from this direction - Stark had fallen in with Loki readily, mutual captives, but with Loki in a position of apparent power over Anthony… he wouldn’t receive one kind word from this man.

Perfect. Loki did not want kindness; he had Stark for that. He merely needed a sacrifice to throw in Stark’s place. And while Stark was right to fear that Anthony could fall in love with Loki in the right circumstances, Loki had to guard his heart too. Anthony was just as strong, just as clever, just as broken as Stark was. 

_But I already have Stark._

And it would do nothing to take Anthony as well, amusing as the results might be. 

“Oh, shut up,” Stark said, without rising into Anthony’s sight, and Anthony twitched at hearing his own voice without speaking it. He - Stark - was rather adorable when flustered so. “You’re putting me off.”

He gave Loki a little scolding glare, and then rose and faced Anthony.

Anthony’s eyes gaped wide - no panic, no fear, simple disbelief - and then narrowed in anger, and he turned to Loki and pointed to him sharply. “Thor said you could only make pretty pictures of yourself, so what the hell is this?”

“Stark?”

Stark’s mouth twisted in reluctance as Anthony met his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Anthony laughed, and the finger extended towards Loki twitched mockingly from side to side. “That’s the best you can do? Vaguely ominous? Gotta say, not impressed. Let’s face it, I’m _here_. What makes you think I won’t believe the rest of it?”

Stark shrugged. “You asked for it. Here goes.” He met Anthony’s eyes steadily, and rubbed his hands together. “Loki and I are in love but Pep’s in love with me too so Loki cloned me and made you so Pepper could date me but I wouldn’t have to break up with Loki because she’ll technically be dating you.”

Hmm. Rushed and brief and leaving aside all detail, but then again, if Stark spoke thus then Anthony would surely understand perfectly.

“You’re right, I don’t believe you.”

Or perhaps not. When did Stark ever do what Loki expected of him? Anthony much less so - Loki knew Stark, Stark as he had become; Anthony was not Loki’s god. 

“Okay, I’ll try again. Pepper wants us - like actually, seriously loves us, god knows why, Stockholm syndrome or something, but I’ve taken myself off the market-” Stark jerked a thumb at Loki - “which has left her messed up and crying-”

“You bastard, you made her _cry?_ ”

Stark waved his hands. “A bit, I cried more, but I had Loki and she didn’t have anyone - point is, I can only fix it by giving her what she wants, but she definitely doesn’t want me in love with Loki, so you’re me, identically me, minus everything to do with Loki since I met him after New York.”

Anthony was staring agape at Stark as he attempted to process the news, slow and confused. Loki had expected better of a man with Stark’s quick mind, though perhaps he only pretended at his hesitation to conceal his strengths. Yes, Stark was surely capable of playing the fool, and playing it well, when it suited him. When he had to hide himself.

Loki’s hands clenched into fists, and he forced his breathing to remain calm. He could not slaughter those who posed such threats to Stark; those still alive were his friends, and the others were dead by Stark’s hands. It did nothing to think of Stark in pain, Loki had already saved him from more, left this Anthony in Stark’s place to be used and tormented and torn apart. As soon as they delivered him to the Avengers, Stark would be wholly Loki’s. There was nothing else for him to do but wait. 

Anthony shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. “So let me get this straight. You’re fucking the god who invaded the planet, but Pepper’s in love with you, so you had him make me so I could be her rich devastatingly handsome sex slave?”

Stark shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Anthony chewed his bottom lip, and his eyes lit up, warm and amused. “I think I can live with that.”

“You’d better.” Stark clapped him on the shoulders firmly. They looked all but identical, the same height, the same hair and beard and power in their eyes. But Stark looked just a little brighter, less hard-used by the world; Anthony bore a strange sense of perpetual tiredness that Loki had not seen in Stark until he had its absence to compare it with. 

If only Loki had thought to do this earlier.

“Okay, listen up,” Stark went on. “I really may have fucked things up kind of a lot with Pepper, try to explain that it’s not your fault, but seriously, don’t screw this up. I don’t give a damn what you do exactly, Loki and I are skipping town and I probably won’t ever see you again, but you make sure it’s about her. She’s been second place for long enough. Big secret crush, years of hiding it, finally out in the open - don’t make her regret meeting us, right?”

“You want Pepper to be happy and you’re giving her to _me?_ ”

Stark shrugged. “Yeah, we’re idiots like that. Just don’t get her killed. And don’t waste this. Don’t freak out and run when it gets real. We go soft and stupid when we’re in love, but it’s worth it.”

Oh, Stark was a clever liar. Love - _Loki_ did not make him weak, but this was how Stark spoke of the things he cared most about; he shielded them jealously and kept them close to his chest, spoke mockingly to distract others from them, hid how much he valued them. It was a trick Loki had used more than once.

His own copy would doubtless do the same. Stark’s name would likely never pass its lips. 

“And speaking of worth it…” Anthony raised his hand, and tapped at Stark’s whole, healed chest. “What’s it like?”

Stark swallowed, and raised his own hand to the arc reactor glowing blue beneath the thin brown fabric of Anthony’s tunic, its magnificent light and power, and paused a few moments before speaking. “I can _breathe._ ”

Loki’s heart might have stopped beating.

Then Stark quirked a smile, falsely amused. “And I can walk through airport security without setting all the sensors off, it’s fun. Much quieter.”

“Shit,” Anthony said softly, the jest washing off him like a breaking wave. “So I guess it is worth it?”

“So worth it. Especially since I don’t even need the suits anymore - oh yeah, did I mention that? I’m Asgardian. A god. Actually.”

Stark grinned. Anthony’s jaw dropped.

“But _you’re_ stuck with this, because you’re Tony Stark and Tony Stark has a built-in nightlight. And it took ultra super healing to fix up the hole in my chest.”

“Yeah.” Anthony swallowed, falling silent, and he drummed his fingertips against the circle of light and the metal and glass beneath it, brushing Stark’s skin. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

Stark rolled his eyes. “I am _not_ giving you a step-by-step guide for how to be me. Nothing’s changed. You’ve missed a couple weeks, time-wise, but all that happened was aliens abducted us and we wiped out the entire Chitauri army-”

“You what?”

“-get Steve to brief you or something, long story and most of it involves me and Loki doing things you probably don’t want to know about, but just because I’m a vicious bastard I’ll tell you he’s better than that Brazilian supermodel.”

Anthony’s jaw dropped open. “No.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Loki cleared his throat softly. “Stark, careful.”

Stark turned to him and pouted, eyes wide and pleading. “You can’t do that. God of mischief! This is mischief!”

Yes, it was, and beautiful mischief at that. Loki would very much enjoy seeing Anthony wound up in jealousy and imagination, but the price was too high. “No reason,” Loki reminded Stark. _Do not tell him why he could love me._  

Stark stuck out his tongue like a child. “Fine.”

Anthony’s eyes were flickering between the two of them. “My god, the team must hate you. You’re literally that couple everybody hates. You’re cute and you don’t need full sentences and you _like_ each other and my god, how long have you been together?”

Stark met Loki’s eyes. “Two weeks?”

Anthony dropped his face into his hands. “Jesus.”

“Loki,” Stark said pointedly. “Wrong deity.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.” Stark shrugged. “So does pretty much everybody. Why do you think I’m skipping out? Pissed Steve off, pissed Natasha off, made Bruce hide in the lab-”

“You made Bruce-”

“-so you’ve got a couple zillion apologies to make, sorry about that, but I’ve had enough. I’m retiring. I’ve nicked about a quarter of your fortune, not that you have any idea how much that is. Have Jarvis send me your projects sometimes, it’ll be hilarious when Pepper makes you sleep and you get work done anyway.”

Anthony waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, whatever, just don’t make me make decisions about it. Whatever you want. I just want to be left alone with apparently-my-girlfriend and forget that I didn’t exist until an hour ago and got cloned because you’re mopey.”

Stark grinned. “We’ve had worse.”

“That’s true. This is easy, no sweat, completely normal - seriously, _better than the Brazilian supermodel?_ ”

“Way better.”

Anthony shook his head. “I’m going to have to burn the sheets in my room, aren’t I?”

“Ye-ah.” Stark grimaced apologetically, muscles in his jaw leaping. “Maybe just get a new bed. And sorry about the can of whipped cream we left in the middle of it, I swear we weren’t doing anything really kinky - well.” He grinned. “Nothing you wouldn’t do.”

Anthony groaned.

Loki glanced away at the sound of heavy boots in the hall outside; Thor’s, doubtless sent to pry Stark from his supposed misery over Loki’s supposed imprisonment and send him back to Midgard. Thor could take Stark, and Loki would take Anthony by the back ways, magic, sneak them both from under Odin’s half-blind gaze.

And that would be that. Anthony would bear the blame and the guilt and the duties the Avengers sought to lay upon him; Loki would take Stark to this New Zealand and let him heal. He would see Stark smile, unrestrained, have him pin Loki to the walls with hands and hips and tongue, unafraid of anyone coming across them, would talk together for hours without answering to the sun or to the demands of his team. Stark’s scars would fade and his nightmares would ease, and Stark would throw Loki’s into oblivion beside his own. Let their shadows keep each other company as they kept themselves. They had millennia to give to this, if that was what it would take.

There would be light and love and peace. Stark and Loki. 

And then one day Thor would be king, and Loki his right hand and general and knife in the dark, whatever Thor asked of him, would be Thor’s brother proud and acknowledged. Stark would tear Asgard down and build it anew, match Loki’s tools of magic to his own physics, crown Thor’s land in his own wonders. Stark and Loki alike grew bored easily without occupation, but a whole realm at their feet would be enough to keep them interested.

Loki wanted much, but he had given much to come here. The least he deserved was a few decades of peace with Stark before returning to the world proper.

And if he, monster and traitor and murderer, did not in fact deserve it?

Well. He would take it, then. He would have it anyway. Stark and Thor and a kingdom to revere and fear his name, a place and a purpose and the warm tendrils of Stark’s love wrapping his heart and the sweet ache of a good fucking in his limbs. Mischief and chaos and tricks and lies, and a haven to return to when he went too far, when he tired of his own nature.

Thor knocked loudly at the door; both Stark and Anthony jumped, and Loki grinned at them. “We are to return to Midgard.”


	10. Home

That had been, hands down, the weirdest experience of Tony’s life.

God, teleportation and magic and cloning, and magic cloning of _him_ , how was it possible that he hadn’t even existed an hour ago? How was it possible that Loki had made him so he could run off with the original Tony, who was apparently Asgardian now, and come on, _him and Loki?_ Really? Tall, dark and crazy? How was that his type? Maybe it was _yes_ to the first two, it wasn’t like Tony was blind, but that third one _had_ to be a dealbreaker, seriously. Tony was already crazy enough, how could he want somebody even _worse?_

Pepper sounded much better, kind, sweet, wonderful Pepper, human and safe and completely non-murderous, except for all the times she _did_ threaten to kill Tony, but he deserved every one of those so it didn’t really count.

God, he was going to ruin this. Ruin her. He’d fuck up somehow, he’d be stupid and neglectful and lock himself in his lab and forget that she existed, she’d give him everything and he wouldn’t have anything to give in return because she already had everything he cared about, she was already the person he trusted more than anyone else and he’d still managed to treat her like crap, and what was he supposed to _do?_ How was this supposed to be any different to what they already had?

He’d do it, of course he would, because it was Pepper and she wanted it, and from other-Tony’s story she was already messed up by this, so the inevitable destruction couldn’t really make anything worse. Tony was a bandaid to be slapped over other-Tony’s colossal fuckup - god, she’d loved him for years and then in the space of two weeks he’d fallen for someone else, someone as unlike her as possible, she must have hated him for that.

 _Pepper’s in love with me._ The worst had already happened, and there was no turning back from that, so he might as well do his best to make her happy now, just delay the ending, make her smile today and shove tomorrow out of his face.

And she’d be here in- “How long did you say for Pepper to get here?”

Other-Tony, across the room, lifted his head from where it was resting on Loki’s shoulder, and god, did those two have _no_ personal boundaries? What the hell had happened to Tony’s emotional fortress? He was just leaning back against Loki’s chest, Loki’s arms around his waist, like affection was suddenly something he was comfortable with. “She said fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes ago, but that’s New York traffic for you. God, I can’t believe she actually listened, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she brings a bazooka with her, because we did not part on the best of terms.”

Loki’s grip tightened a little and he pulled other-Tony back against him a little more firmly, and other-Tony didn’t even give a hint of protest. “You truly expect her to attack you?”

“Nah. Bazooka’s not her style. But even odds say she’ll smack me in the face, smack _him_ in the face, and leave us in a really awkward threesome.”

Tony deserved an Oscar for not screaming out loud. “I am not sleeping with _Loki!_ ”

Other-Tony shrugged. “Fair enough. How do you feel about him watching us?”

 _No._ Loki - just no. 

But - well, it was obviously awful - but how many people actually got a chance to-

“Stark,” Loki chided, nuzzling other-Tony’s neck like he’d never snapped one in his life, “do not tease the poor thing with promises you don’t intend to keep.”

Oh, good, Tony hadn’t really been interested anyway. “Okay, I don’t need _you_ to stand up for me, I am perfectly capable-”

“Um,” said someone from the doorway, “I don’t think I’ve had enough sleep.”

They all turned to see Bruce, leaning against the frame, and Steve standing behind him with his arms folded and his chiseled jaw trying not to gape open in surprise. “Why… Are there two of you?”

Other-Tony gave Steve a pathetic attempt at a salute without moving out of Loki’s hug - Jesus, _public_ affection now? And the Avengers weren’t attacking Loki on sight? _I bet I missed some fun arguments._

“Here’s the thing, Cap, and pass this on to Fury like a good little soldier: Loki and me, we’ve had enough. We’re jumping ship. But because I’m responsible and yeah, it wasn’t your fault I found somebody who actually likes me-”

Both Steve and Bruce winced.

“-I present Tony Stark sans Loki,” other-Tony waved at Tony, who flipped Steve and Bruce a fake grin and a peace sign, totally not just as overwhelmed as they were, “ready for duty and about to make a choice of partner fully meeting with your approval-”

“Huh?”

“Pepper should be here in a few minutes and he’s going to do something really stupid, but that’s private. Or whatever passes for private when you’re us.”

“You’re the one who decided to cuddle where everyone can see you,” Tony muttered. Really, somebody would have to shoot him if he tried to pull this shit with Pepper.

Other-Tony smirked and snuggled back against Loki, who chuckled. “Oh, we’ve done much more than this. I advise you not to look at your security footage too closely. Though Stark rather enjoys it.”

Tony smacked Loki’s thigh. “Shut up, this is serious time. Seduce me when I’ve sorted out permission for us to exist.”

“You don’t-” Steve walked past Bruce, shaking his head and hands twitching like he was forcing himself not to fold his arms across his chest. “You’re leaving?”

“I’m leaving, that Tony’s staying.”

Bruce blinked slowly. “I have definitely not had enough sleep.”

Other-Tony gritted his teeth, and Loki just whispered _shh_ against his ear and bent his head to rest his cheek against other-Tony’s hair and other-Tony settled back like it was the most natural thing in the world to be _comforted_ by _Loki_ getting _closer_. “Look, we’re leaving either way. Just forget that the last two weeks ever happened.” He met Steve’s eyes. “You had guard duty for Loki when Thor brought him back to teach him about consequences and why not to attack planets. You all got captured, you got out, Thor and Loki went back to Asgard and _stayed there._ Tony Stark-” pointing at Tony, and he waved again just to be clear, “never wanted Loki, never liked him, never…”

He trailed off, eyes distant and unfocused, and Loki set his lips against other-Tony’s ear again. “Lies, you remember,” he breathed, so faint Tony barely heard it. “He’s not you.”

Other-Tony nodded, slowly, then pulled himself together and nodded again, crisp and laser-sharp. “Okay. Okay, that’s the deal. We’re disappearing. Tell Fury that any SHIELD presence will be taken as a hostile action and I’d love to find out if I can pull someone’s head off with my bare hands.”

“You can,” Loki said, low and threatening and icy gaze catching both Steve and Bruce.

“So you’d better leave us alone. Don’t try to find us, because Jarvis will know, and unlike some people around here, Jarvis values things that make me happy.”

Steve sighed, kind of deflating into himself. “Tony, we’re not the enemy.”

Other-Tony backed off too, losing some of the angry intensity. “I know. You guys have been some of the best friends I’ve ever had. I’ll miss you. But if I have to make a choice, I’m choosing Loki. We’ll be gone as soon as everything’s sorted out.”

“What has to be-”

“Tony?”

Heads turned to see Pepper come up from behind Bruce, eyes falling on other-Tony and Loki and her lips going thin and angry and Tony braced himself for an outburst, and then she looked at _him_ and her mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. “What…” She looked from Tony to Tony and back again. “What is - what are you _wearing?_ ”

Other-Tony frowned and looked down at himself like he couldn’t believe there was anything strange about parading around in head-to-toe leather that screamed _I am an alien warrior prince, crawl at my feet you puny mortals in your jeans and t-shirts._ “What’s wrong with it?”

Pepper pushed her hair back from her face slowly and breathed deeply to maintain her calm. “Nothing’s wrong with it, Tony, I just- I wanted to get that out of the way first. What’s going on here?”

Other-Tony finally pried himself out of Loki’s arms, and beckoned Tony over to join him and waved Bruce and Steve out of his way as they walked up to Pepper. “We’ve got some stuff to talk about.”

~

“You _cloned_ yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“ _WHY?_ ”

~

Pepper discreetly pinched herself on the thigh, and winced at the sharp little pain. No, she wasn’t dreaming.

It was still the best explanation she could come up with for having been given everything she’d ever wanted. Tony was right here, standing next to her, fingers laced between hers; _he_ was hers, honest and hopeful and trying to make her happy. Just like that. Handed over on a silver platter. 

With no strings attached - to him.

The strings were attached to the _other_ Tony, the first one, because he was going to disappear with Loki. Loki, who’d attacked New York, Loki who’d tried to kill him, Loki who was an alien and a god and completely terrifying.

That was the price. Loki was giving her Tony in exchange for being allowed to take _his_ Tony away from her. Tony was going to walk off into the sunset with Loki and never be seen again.

There was nothing she could do to stop that; Tony wouldn’t listen to her if she tried to warn him that Loki was dangerous. Tony had never stopped to think about the consequences of his actions, she’d always done that for him.

Except this time, she hadn’t been around, and he’d gone ahead with this stupid, grandiose plan that made _no_ sense - _cloning_ himself? Cloning himself just so he could be with her _and_ Loki? 

But she had to admit, it was Tony all over. And when holes could open up in the sky and Tony Stark could say he loved her, magical cloning didn’t really seem so far out as all that.

One more time, then. One more time she’d clean up his mess, and make sure he wasn’t going to get himself killed. 

And this way, she wouldn’t go nuts wondering if he was okay.

Pepper glanced around the room for Loki. This was going to be unbelievably awful, but she had to do what she had to do. She didn’t care how many Tony Starks there were, or whether one of them was suddenly immortal. She loved _Tony_ , dammit, and she was going to take care of him. She’d only been doing it since forever, and Loki wasn’t going to stroll in here and take that away from her.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, even though she’d known he was here, even though she’d been looking for him on purpose. He was just so… _scary_ , standing in a corner with his hands behind his back, watching everything like a creep, face frozen, nothing moving but his eyes, and they looked crazy, skittering over everything except when they lingered on Tony.

 _His_ Tony. But that would never make him any less hers.

She swallowed, and laid a hand on Tony’s arm - ‘her’ Tony, the new still-human one. “I have to go talk to somebody.”

Tony didn’t answer, distracted by the other Tony, but she didn’t really expect anything else. She just stepped away, and reached for the tie on her wrist to pull her hair back at the nape of her neck. She felt better with her hair back, controlled and competent, more able to deal with the various types of bullshit going down around her. Still womanly, but a lot less girly - people took her more seriously if she didn’t look like an eighth grader who hadn’t worked out what her hair straightener was actually for. It felt that way, anyway, like she had a little bit of armor to match Loki’s, and honestly, couldn’t he at least pretend to be fitting in here? What was so wrong about normal clothes? And the way he’d dressed Tony up, too, like he was staking a claim…

She crossed the room, heart thumping - she was actually going to talk to him, to _Loki_ , the guy who’d killed thousands of people and tried to take over the world, tried to kill Tony, would have had absolutely no problem with killing _her_ if she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She edged over to the side, trying to come up on him unseen. Probably also pointless, but she still felt better.

She reached a corner, and stopped. She had to go now, before she lost her nerve and decided that it was hard enough to take care of _one_ Tony Stark, and nobody could expect her to take care of two, not even herself.

She took a step forward - and Dr. Banner appeared next to Loki, almost like magic, just… _there_.

She came a little closer, taking advantage of the most distraction she would get.

Dr. Banner was speaking, and Loki hadn’t moved a muscle, like he wasn’t listening, but his eyes were angled sideways, showing he was paying attention and just pretending not to.

“… you make, you’re still walking out of here with one of the few people on the planet who respect me completely as a human being. So listen to me very carefully. If you hurt Tony, I will find you. I will make you regret every second of your existence, and then I will let the Hulk out to play. Am I clear?”

Loki grinned, all teeth, like a predatory shark seeing blood in the water. “Exquisitely.”

“Good.” Dr. Banner smiled too, apparently completely friendly, before he moved back into the center of the room.

Pepper was holding her breath; she exhaled, and breathed in again. Dr. Banner had managed to talk to Loki safely; she could too. She didn’t even mean to give him the shovel talk, just check up on whether Tony would be okay. Just to satisfy her stupid motherly tendencies where he was concerned.

Loki smile faded into a smirk, and he shook his head. 

And saw her.

He stared from under his brows, gaze piercing, cutting right through her like she was nothing. God, she’d been stupid, what did she think she was doing, she’d go jump back into the throng of superheroes _right now…_

And leave Tony alone with this guy for eternity? She swallowed, and ordered her stomach to stop churning. No thanks.

“Ah, Pepper. I do hope you’re not here to threaten me, too. Two offers of death in as many minutes is surely more than I can withstand.”

His voice was oily and mocking, arrogantly superior, and it just confirmed her suspicions that he was an utter jerk. He wasn’t any different to assholes in bars, or guys on the board who thought that because _they_ had a dick, _she_ didn’t have a brain. 

She ruled a global business empire. One washed-up demigod was nothing.

She stepped forward. “That’s _Miss Potts_ to you.”

He arched an eyebrow and his mouth fell open like he was surprised. “Miss Potts, then. Stark did not tell me you preferred an alternate form of address.”

Oh, he was one to talk. He called Tony _Stark_ like they were nothing but associates or soldiers. Tony had claimed they were practically _soulmates_. How did this fit in?

_Will that be all, Mr. Stark?_

On second thoughts, maybe she wouldn’t examine that too closely.

She bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t afford to get distracted; she had a job to do. “My friends call me Pepper. Alien demigod murderers call me Miss Potts.”

He rolled his eyes sideways, lip curling in a dismissive smirk. He couldn’t care less what she thought of him. But if that were the case, would he really have been so obvious about it? Maybe he was trying to _hide_. 

Maybe she’d struck a nerve.

But that wasn’t a good thing to do right now, because this was _Loki_ and he killed people, real people who just happened to get in his way - what did she think she was _doing?_

Protecting Tony. That was what mattered. She leapt right into it before she could start second-guessing herself again. “So, you’re really just going to leave Tony here and walk out with the other one? You’re _never_ coming back?”

He shrugged, casual and elegant. She’d bet he practiced that every night in the mirror. “Never? Close enough for you, perhaps. What is a hundred human lifetimes away is surely no concern of yours.”

“You-” she would not say _gave birth to,_ “made that guy.” She found the shine of the arc reactor in the crowd, and pointed at the Tony wearing it. “You’re almost his father or something. You don’t care about that at all?”

Something cold flickered across Loki’s eyes before he looked innocently confused. “I have given him power, wealth, intelligence, and found him a powerful, wealthy, intelligent woman to love him. Where have I failed in my duties?” His eyebrow quirked and he smiled, charming and mischievous. “Would you have me stay and stand watch over him? I rather thought you wished me gone from your halls.”

“Oh, I certainly want you gone. No offense, but I couldn’t be happier if I never had to see you again. But first I want to make sure both of them are okay. That’s my job.”

His gaze was serious again. “I do hope it is more to you than a job, or you will break poor Anthony’s heart.”

‘His’ Tony was called _Stark_ , so _Anthony_ had to be hers, and- She almost slapped him. That was nothing to do with him! What did he know? It was her job, and so much more, it had been her life for years, and what she and _Anthony_ meant to each other was their business! He’d said he didn’t care about Tony in the slightest, so what gave him the right to pressure her now?

God, she was _angry_ , she hadn’t been this angry since…

He was pushing her buttons. The arrogant, self-righteous _bastard_ was winding her up. He was playing with her like she was an amusing little toy. 

She breathed deeply and moved on. Two could play at this game. “Why did you try to kill him?”

He looked away, staring across the room - at the very window he’d hurled Tony through. “He stood in my path. He was a powerful enemy, and not to be left to challenge me. As he proved. You know that he ended the battle singlehandedly - defeated me singlehandedly, too, I suppose.”

He _supposed?_ What else did he think the Avengers had done? Stupid, arrogant-

“If it makes any difference to you, my first plan was not to kill him. But he thwarted that aim, and then offered me a great insult, one I will not repeat in what passes for polite company.” He smiled, this one trying to be natural and fond. “He has since had cause to rescind those words.”

She didn’t know what that was about, and she didn’t care. What was obvious was that Loki was perfectly at peace with having almost killed Tony, which just did not fit in with how he claimed to feel about him now.

Unless that was how alien gods worked. There was no sign of remorse for anything. He stood in the company of the heroes who’d brought him down, and there was nothing but pride and confidence in every line of his body. No shame, no sympathy, no regret. He’d just moved on like it had never happened.

And it _would_ be just like Tony to forgive Loki so instantly and stupidly, to overlook it just like _that_.

Why couldn’t he have fallen for another Avenger instead? A _human?_ Even Thor at least had some kind of connection to Earth and a sense of morality. But Loki… Why him?

_Why not me?_

Loki stretched his spine out, getting taller still, and turned back to her, eyes hard and cold. But she would _not_ run away no matter how intimidating he got. “In any case, Stark’s safety is no concern of yours. As I think you’ve proven enough already.”

“Excuse me?”

Loki shot down towards her, face suddenly inches from hers, that close, that _angry_. “He came to you to share his joy, and you threw him from your home. You told him he broke your heart by healing his own, and he wept and begged me to tell him how to help you. That was all he cared for - not his own agony at losing his greatest friend, his truest ally, his almost-sister; he wept because he had caused _you_ pain, and spared not one thought to blame you for causing his. He will like as not never see you again because he thinks that will best please you, and he will suffer however much despair and loneliness that costs him and call it fair price for your smile. So no, _Miss Potts_ , I think I shall not consider you Stark’s guardian. I seek to protect him _from you._ ”

She drew in a breath; it was shaking, and she stopped. If she took another one she’d break down completely. 

But Loki had to be lying, had to be toying with her just like he had been before. Tony wouldn’t have cried over something like this. If he’d cared so much about her he would have made a move before Loki had been in the picture, for sure!

But… Loki looked so raw right now, something fierce and wounded in his expression, emotion catching in his voice. He wouldn’t make himself look vulnerable like this just for a joke, would he? So - was it real? _Please, it can’t be real!_

Loki’s eyes cut away from her, across the room, and he straightened back up. “Do with Anthony as you will. But the next you cause Stark pain, best pray he still loves you as well as he did yesterday, or I will not spare you a second time.”

Her heart leapt and she felt sick for a second before she clenched her fists and forced herself to breathe. Just breathe. It wasn’t like she’d never been threatened with death before, but she’d never actually _died_ and she’d come through this too. He wasn’t even planning to kill her right now, this wasn’t like Obadiah or Vanko or anything, this was just a stupid threat because he was cruel and killed people he didn’t like. It didn’t _really_ matter, she was fine, and she couldn’t afford to panic right now.

She stared at his lapels for a second, the green folds of leather and the gold edging lining them, the way they folded over the hard black chest armor beneath, until she felt like she wasn’t about to fall apart. “If Tony doesn’t have a problem with me, neither should you.”

“Stark wouldn’t _have a problem_ with you if you held a knife to his throat and told him to step forward,” Loki spat, and she jumped before she controlled herself again. _Stay calm! He can’t hurt you!_

“Doesn’t matter,” she heard herself say. “I’m his friend, not yours. It’s none of your business. I just want to know that he’s going to be okay with you.”

Loki’s lip curled sneeringly. “Are you sure? If I say I will slaughter anyone that would harm him, will you thank me for it or worry for Stark in the embrace of such a bloodthirsty monster? If I tell you I would rather die than hurt him, will you expect my bones by the end of the week? If the _alien demigod murderer_ says he will be well, will you believe it?”

“I…”

He sighed down at her, and then smiled gently, indulgently, like she was a little kid. “This is not an affair for mortals. We are gods, he and I. The things he can survive would leave your world ashes. He removes himself from you so that you will _not_ waste thoughts and grief upon him. Grant him his peace, and let him go.”

She swallowed. Last chance. “He’s really going to be okay?”

“I will burn Yggdrasil if that will make him so.” He sighed again, and eased back a little. “Yes. He is.”

She drew herself up, and rolled her eyes like he’d been wasting her time. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

Pepper turned and strode away - did not run, definitely didn’t run - while she’d gotten the last word in. Dear god, that had been the single most terrifying experience of her _life._ She really meant nothing to Loki, he wouldn’t lose any sleep over killing her.

But if that was true - and she was sure it was - then why hadn’t he gone ahead? She’d prodded at his sore spots, or where she’d guessed his sore spots were, and he’d definitely been riled up at her. He’d _threatened_ to kill her, but that was all. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the will or the nerve or ability to go through with it. _Motive, method, and opportunity_. Why wasn’t she dead already?

_Tony._

Because Tony cared about her and wanted her to be happy, not dead. And Loki… listened to that. _Obeyed_ , maybe. Did what Tony wanted.

There was only one reason a merciless psychotic god would do what anyone wanted. 

_Loki really does love him._

She was quivering and she had to sit down, right now; she crossed to a couch and dropped down limply into the cushions, and exhaled a breath that shook her entire body like a leaf. Loki was serious about this whole thing. Tony really meant that much to him. All the devastation and destruction he was capable of, killing thousands of people without blinking an eye, and he’d spared her because her death would have hurt Tony, and Loki wanted to avoid that at any cost. However humiliating it was to let her walk away like this, he had to take it. 

God, she was stupid. She’d been in the position of power all along. There was literally nothing he could do to her, not with Tony standing in the same room. She could have said whatever she’d wanted, and all he could have done was talk back. Even then he would have had to be careful, because she could have easily gone to Tony afterwards, and Loki would have gotten in big trouble.

Maybe she would. Just to get back at him for being a big creepy jerk.

No. No, that was a stupid idea. Petty revenge wasn’t worth having anything to do with him again. 

Like she’d said. Tony would be fine. That was all she’d wanted to know.

It was all she wanted.

~

This was it.

Time to go.

 _Seriously, just turn around and walk away, it’s not that hard, you’re starting over, you_ want _to leave all this crap behind you._

And that was all true, he definitely couldn’t stand here forever because this wasn’t technically his house anymore and at some point the other Avengers would show up and then Tony would have to explain to them as well and he didn’t think he could take saying goodbye to Clint and watching Natasha be all smug that she’d gotten them out of her hair. And Anthony and Pepper would want to go off somewhere to be private and Tony had to leave before that happened, he couldn’t survive watching Pepper walk away from him again, he had to be the one taking action here.

But he wanted this to be over without actually having to do anything about it, because the only thing for him to do right now was to turn around and never see Pepper again.

The hallway leading down to the lab was right behind him, this open sucking portal that he’d have to face sooner or later, but Pepper was standing right there, all beautiful summery hair and the way she was just an inch taller than him and _fuck_ , she was _smiling_ , when was the last time Tony had seen her smile?

She looked happy, even if she was a little pale and tired because they’d felt like they’d parted ways for good and then he hadn’t let that rest, and she’d come here anyway just because he’d asked her to and why had he taken things this far, why couldn’t he have just tried a little harder to work something out…

No. No, her gaze was solidly fixed to new human Tony, the real one who cared about her more than anyone else in his life, the one who was going to dedicate everything to her. Who’d never put anything before making her happy. Tony - _Stark_ \- could never have done that, not now. Couldn’t have put Loki second for anyone, and couldn’t give Pepper anything less than everything. He’d never given himself the chance to love Pepper like this, and now it was too late for him.

But fuck, she looked happy.

 _Go, go, right now,_ go!

She was smiling and her hair was slightly windswept and a little tangled where it draped over her shoulders and her eyes were light and glowing, and her hands were still and calm where they wrapped a glass of water and human Tony’s hand, she looked casual and normal in her t-shirt and jeans and sneakers, and she’d never look more perfect than this, so Tony looked, and then shut his eyes and turned around and marched down the hallway.

His steps were fast because he’d be too tempted to turn back if he went slowly, if she was still so close he’d want to look back one more time, and what if she were frowning or had walked away and _that_ was the last he saw of her? No, he’d remember Pepper being happy, because he’d fixed things, because he’d given her what she’d wanted, because Tony had made her smile one last time. 

Soft, hurried steps beside him, and Loki’s hand stroking steady down his arm, running smoothly over the leather sleeve. “Stark?”

 _She’s happy, she’s happy._ Tony led them into the elevator and thumbed the down button, stared at the dark wood panelling that didn’t reflect either of their faces. “Yeah.” His throat was sore but his voice didn’t crack. “She’ll be fine.”

“I didn’t ask about her.”

“And I don’t care about me. She’ll be fine, that’s all that matters.”

An almost-silent, irritated hiss. “You-”

“It’s like this.” He could talk about this, if he didn’t get too close, didn’t slide into what he was avoiding. “What you went through for Thor. And you didn’t care, because it kept him safe. You didn’t matter, he did. Not that this is anywhere near as bad, but Pepper’s happy, so everything’s fine. I’m…”

_Fine._

He’d been trying to convince himself all this time, that Pepper was happy and that made everything okay, but it really did. Pepper was happy and Tony was moving on. He’d never see her again, and that was okay, he’d manage, he knew that she was happy and safe, way more so without him, or _with_ him, the other him, Anthony - Pepper was going to be alright, and so was Tony. 

He should have been crying, completely unbalanced, hunkering down and just enduring until he could stand up again - but he wasn’t. He felt okay. He’d miss her, he already did, he’d have things he’d want to tell her and he wouldn’t be able to, and all of that was awful, but it wasn’t soul-destroying. He felt it; it just didn’t hurt so much this time. 

The elevator reached their private floor and Tony stepped out, not even slightly weak in the knees. Strong, actually, buckets of strength he’d never had before. “Is this some Asgardian thing? Not completely breaking down at stuff that should probably hurt more than it does? Or do I just have practice at losing her? Because I actually am fine.”

Loki pressed up against Tony’s side, and Loki’s arm wrapped around his lower back and his hand settled possessively over Tony’s hip, and Loki was using magic or something because it didn’t actually make it stupidly hard to walk. “Saying goodbye is very different to losing her.”

“Yeah.” And speaking of saying goodbye, “How about you? You okay being Thorless?”

Loki shook his head, the ends of his hair flicking across Tony’s cheek. “I am not without him. He knows he is welcome to see us. Mother, too. And I may visit them whenever I wish, provided I do not actually appear in the middle of the high council in session. I expect my double will sit ignored until Thor grants its, or my, freedom, but should he have need of me before then - if he stumbles onto one of the many things he cannot do without my help - I will come. It takes more than this to break our family.”

 _Our family._ God, was it possible to die of heart failure because it couldn’t keep up with this much love? Tony had found his other half, a mother, and a brother within just a few days of each other, and even the dodgy stepfather was more alive than Howard was, Jesus, _Tony had a family._

“And… I think your Pepper would not be displeased if you visited her.”

It was a warm jolt across Tony’s heart - _more_ family? “Really?”

“ _Think_ , Stark,” Loki said, amused like Tony was being stupid or something. “She was grieved when she thought you could not be hers. Now she does not want you in such a way. Why can you not be friends as you always have been? Your heart belongs to another, as does hers. Simple.” He shrugged and pulled Tony closer. “Do not martyr yourself without cause. You are allowed to choose a path with less suffering laid upon it.”

“Can gods even martyr themselves? Seems like it wouldn’t work, you’d get this feedback loop of deity and sacrifice, could be messy.”

Loki kissed the top of his head. “I like that you say these strange things that make no sense.”

“It made sense!”

Loki’s hand squeezed his hip. “Of course.” His tone was light and teasing, fully expecting Tony to catch him out in his stupid humoring.

But Tony wasn’t about to play by Loki’s rules. “That’s right, and don’t forget it.” He grabbed a handful of Loki’s firm leather-clad ass and Loki yelped and smacked him on the back of the head, and god, they were messing around like teenagers who’d never been tortured or betrayed or laid their lives on the line and kind of not really wanted to pick them back up, and Loki was right: they could choose. They could choose something that sucked less.

They had. They were skipping out on two entire planets, getting to a nice country well out of the way of SHIELD and alien invasions and politics, where probably neither of them would be recognized or given any trouble, and leaving other people to deal with their mountains of accumulated shit. They’d had enough. They were taking a vacation, and being _gods_ , of course their vacation could last for a couple of years. It’d be great, Tony would be able to work on anything he wanted, no demands from the company or SHIELD, really throw himself into this green energy business - New Zealand had a great leg up on that with the geothermal energy, Tony could easily help that along. And Loki was insatiable when it came to learning about everything Tony did - and most other things as well - and Loki would keep teaching him about magic and whatever passed for Asgardian physics in return.

Asgardian magic physics - and Tony _was_ Asgardian now, wasn’t he?

He stopped dead right outside the workshop doors and Loki jerked to a halt beside him. “What is it?”

“Can you teach me magic? Not just how it works, can I actually _do_ it?”

He looked up to see Loki smirking down at him smugly. “I wondered how long it would take you to think of that.”

Tony jabbed him in the ribs. “Hilarious. Can I do it or not?”

“You, my fire, can do anything.”

“You really don’t like giving the straight answer, do you?”

Loki grinned, and just maybe _winked_ at him. “Whatever gives you that idea?”

In sheer self-defense, Tony put a hand on Loki’s cheek and stretched up to kiss him. 

Loki’s lips melted against his own, warm and slick, and Tony licked through the seam of them to run the tip of his tongue across Loki’s teeth, feel the hot line of Loki’s tongue meeting his, and Loki held Tony flush against his chest and suckled at Tony’s lip, sweet and soft.

_Mine. All mine._

Tony broke the kiss, lips tingling where Loki’s had been, and put his heels back on the floor, and why hadn’t the Asgardian thing made him taller? Loki smirked like he knew what Tony was thinking and loved it, and yes, maybe it was nice to have Loki tucked around him, to feel protected and safe somewhere, but Tony wouldn’t have said _no_ to a boost in height along with the rest of the completely awesome package, the immortality and the strength and the freedom.

But they weren’t quite there yet. Just one little last detail.

The workshop doors slid open for them and they strode through, a soft sigh falling from Loki’s lips. He loved it down here, perched on empty tables just to watch Tony work, and when he got bored of that he explored, poking at things and demanding Tony come tell him what they were, or playing Chicken with Dummy, magic versus fire extinguisher. 

Tony would have to build someone to keep Loki company when he was busy. 

But it was Dummy rolling up to them now, head tilted to the side and clicking his claws, with absolutely no idea of what was going on here. 

Of course not. Tony just could not think of a way to explain that he was leaving, but also staying, that Dummy would understand. Dummy was simple, basic emotions and responses to them in others, but anything more complex than that…

Tony wouldn’t have to say goodbye again here, either; he’d get away without having an ocean of feelings dumped on his head. No farewells, no awkward best-of-luck wishes, no final death threats from Natasha. 

Still…

He reached out to pat Dummy’s stupid head one last time, the metal smooth and slightly warm under his hand, just the same as he’d always felt when Tony had bothered to be obvious with his affection, his first real friend… 

Dummy whirred and swung away, and Tony watched him go and rubbed at a speck of something in his eye, was it dusty in here, and he was definitely going to build a new bot for the New Zealand house, to keep Loki company, obviously. 

Tony sniffed hard and swiped the tears away, and come _on_ , this was ridiculous, he even still had all of Dummy’s code and hardware specs on file, and if the cloning trick had already worked twice then it would work a third time. This wasn’t goodbye and the bots would be totally fine in Anthony’s hands, it was just…

He’d had a rough day and it wasn’t over yet and he really, really wanted it to be over, right now.

He turned to Loki, who was staring after Dummy with a soft, longing look on his face, and a little smile sitting across his lips, before his eyes flickered to Tony.

“Hey, you good to go?”

Loki glanced back at Dummy. “I could take him with us. If you wanted.”

Oh, god, Tony wanted, wanted to take one more thing, because even if he was starting over it wasn’t like _everything_ had been awful, but… “Anthony would kill me.”

Loki shrugged. “He shares your feelings. He will be expecting it.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t like Anthony would know where they’d gone, wasn’t like _he_ couldn’t clone Dummy either, and Tony would probably regret this but he’d regret _not_ doing it more.

“Dummy, roll your ass over here, Loki’s going to teleport you.”

“It is not a teleport, I am holding him outside reality, it is entirely different.”

Dummy cocked his head to the side and rolled back up to them, and Loki smiled and reached out to run a single finger down the strut of his upper body. “Sleep.”

Dummy whirred softly and shut down just like that, and Tony stared. “Since when does he listen to you? Since when does he listen to _anyone?_ ”

Loki quirked an eyebrow and held up a hand with gold magic light swirling around it. “I confess I may have cheated a little.”

Then he waved his hands through the air in front of him, and Dummy just…

Swirled and folded in on himself, sort of rolled itself up like he was hibernating or something and disappeared, curled up tiny and popped through some dimensional hole somewhere, and there was no sign anything had happened, no fluttering papers or stuff knocked over, and god that was _awesome_ , that was an entire robot moved like it was nothing.

And maybe Tony could learn to do that, maybe it was possible that one day _he’d_ be the one pulling the magic teleport, who’d magically drop ice cubes down _Loki’s_ shirt from across the room, although the one time Loki had tried that Tony had been hard in about three seconds flat and had jumped into Loki’s lap and demanded to be fucked, right now, so Tony wasn’t exactly upset about that. 

_I love him. I really, really do._

Loki was fun and smart and understanding and everything Tony could possibly want and things Tony hadn’t wanted until Loki had offered them - this whole temperature kink thing was entirely Loki’s fault, and okay, they were doing something about that, they’d find a way to get Loki’s glamour to let that through, a quick fix until Loki felt comfortable removing it for anything more than five minutes when absolutely necessary. There had to be a way, loads of things passed through it already, Loki sounded the same and his features were the same, it was just a matter of adding temperature to the list of things it didn’t interfere with.

“Well, where are we going? What am I looking for?”

Tony blinked himself out of the lovely contemplation of their future, which was definitely stupid to be doing right now, if he’d shut up about it before they could have been there already. “Looking for?”

“I’d rather not take us to the bottom of the sea. How can I find this house?”

“Oh, right. Arc reactor, go for that. Only a couple in the world. This one’s pretty small, more like Anthony’s than the one powering Stark Tower, it’ll be ages away from any other reactor because New Zealand’s in the middle of the sea and the only thing near it is Australia, eugh, like I’d put one there. That work for you?”

Loki had his eyes shut, fingers rippling slowly by his sides, and was he _seriously_ looking across the _entire planet_ to find this, that was - incredible, completely astonishing, how was this _possible?_ They’d barely scratched the surface here, there was so much more to learn about each other, and now they had eternity to do it.

Tony was the luckiest fucking bastard in the universe. 

Maybe second to Loki, because Tony Stark was awesome and anyone would have been lucky to have him. 

Then again, Loki was awesome too, so…

“Ah.” Loki reached out and took Tony’s hand in his without opening his eyes. “Do let me know if this is the wrong place.”

The workshop just disappeared, gone like that, and the floor turned soft and a warm breeze was flowing across his face, and he could _smell_ the green, the trees and the grass and the mountains, and they were standing on a slight downhill slope, a clearing in a rich green stand of trees, bright and beautiful in the sunlight, a narrow road running down the hill, and Tony turned around to see their house.

It was at the top of the low rise, the road running into the garage beside it, huge windows set in the elegant dark wood, like the offspring of a log cabin and the Malibu house; two stories, and relatively small for anything Tony Stark laid hands on. It probably wouldn’t last very long, given the demands of Asgardian physiology - Tony could probably sneeze and blow out those windows - but it looked so inviting, their little haven in the center of the catastrophe their lives had been.

That was it. That whole part of his life was over; the company, the army, the Avengers - being an Avenger, that was, because he’d still be friends with Thor and Bruce and Clint, and Steve and Natasha would probably wind down with Loki out of their faces - and Tony was starting over. Peace and quiet. More or less. People weren’t going to be trying to kill him anymore, but it wasn’t like he’d stop blowing stuff up in the workshop.

Loki would help.

It was legitimately the first day of the rest of their lives.

“Okay, we are doing exactly nothing for the next - how long do you think we can keep it up before we get bored? Two days, three? Just you, me, and the hot tub, I can’t believe I haven’t done you in a hot tub yet, should we build a new one outside? Privacy is so not an issue, there’s nobody else for miles and they don’t even know we’re here and oh god, we’re going to have to do our own laundry, please tell me your magic can do laundry, what are you looking at?”

Loki was facing away from him, staring up at the foliage like there was something special about that one specific tree, eyes slightly narrowed and lips parted with his focus on something that made no sense to him. “Is it spring here?”

Probably? What month was it, anyway? “Yeah…”

Loki lowered himself to the ground, knees bent, perched on his toes, and ran a hand through the grass. “But it was autumn in your city.”

Oh, yeah, that was definitely true, now it made sense. “Yeah, we’ve switched hemispheres. New Zealand is way south.”

“But we’re still on Midgard. How can your realm have different seasons at one time?”

Tony grinned. “Science!” God, he loved teaching Loki this stuff, how Loki would grasp a basic concept and leap forward from there, skipping over things it had taken Tony weeks to work out, how he’d relate things to the way _he_ saw the world and show Tony a completely new side to the universe. And Loki would kiss him when Tony taught him something particularly cool, that was nice too. “You want seasons, that’s orbital mechanics and axis tilt, simple stuff, but I’ll make it way more complicated because I know that’s how you like it. Let’s hit the workshop and I’ll spin up some models for you, you’re going to love this.”

Loki smiled and extended a hand for Tony to pull him to his feet. Tony wrapped his fingers around Loki’s wrist and leaned back, and felt the warm, comfortable strain of his muscles actually taking Loki’s weight, the bend of his arm actually lifting Loki up. If he’d tried this yesterday he would’ve faceplanted into Loki’s chest.

And speaking of things to do with awesome strength…

Loki stood up straight and Tony grabbed his shoulder with one hand, tipped his head to the side with the other, and leaned in and set his lips against the long pale column of Loki’s neck and sucked at the skin. He could feel the shiver of Loki’s pulse and his soft laugh, the arms around his back and the hands threading through his hair, and Tony just sucked harder, lips tingling, and pulled back to look. 

There was a round red mark where his lips had been, settled over the graceful arch of a tendon, and Tony grinned and leaned back in to lick over it. Loki shivered against him and then a thumb slipped under his collar and brushed over Tony’s neck, over the mark Loki had left on him - they matched, how cute.

_Mine._

_Yours._

Tony leaned back, smirked at Loki’s bright eyes and satisfied smile, and pulled away and caught Loki’s hand and tugged him up the slight rise to their house. “Come on, science. Maybe if you do well on the quiz I’ll give you another one.”

“You promised to mark me everywhere you could reach.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t say today, did I?”

Loki jerked him back, and oh hell like he was getting away with that anymore. 

Tony spun aside and broke Loki’s grip and caught him behind the neck and shoved him forward, foot behind his knee, and Loki hit the dirt and rolled and caught Tony’s leg and yanked him down. He landed hard, forearm across Loki’s throat, pinned Loki’s kick down with one leg and shoved his other knee against Loki’s crotch.

Loki gasped, arched upwards against Tony’s body, and Tony pushed down just a bit, just enough, _yeah I’ll make this into a big deal if you want._

But Loki relaxed under him, grinning madly, hands coming up to open in surrender. “I yield to my god. You cunning, deceitful thing.”

“Gee, wonder where I learnt that from.”

Loki’s eyes were dancing, and he licked his lips and tilted his head back to expose his throat like it made him look at all conquered. “Shall you claim your prize?”

Tony fought a stern expression onto his face. “I’m teaching my prize remedial science, if that’s what you mean.”

Loki’s grin flattened to a single straight line of his lips, and his eyebrows rose. “You think you can keep your hands off me for long enough?”

“I think you’ll consider it incentive to learn quickly.”

“Ah.” Loki’s hips pressed up against Tony’s knee, and Tony felt the outline of his definitely hardening cock. “You won’t have mercy on me now?”

Tony leaned down and brushed his lips against Loki’s. “You know science turns me on. You think I’m good for it now, you wait until I’ve explained planetary rotation to you. Besides, you yielded to me, remember? So you get your ass out of that dirt and into the workshop.”

Loki sighed indulgently, and pushed Tony’s arm off his neck. “Very well.”

Tony stood up and pulled Loki upright, again, tucked himself against Loki’s side and folded his arm around Loki’s back, and started walking towards the house. Again.

Loki draped his arm across Tony’s shoulders. “Of course, I let you win.”

“Figures. You went down way too easy.”

“I shall have to teach you how to fight properly. Make you earn my surrender, make me work to win yours.”

“Promises, promises.”

Yeah, there were an awful lot of promises floating around here, and they meant to keep every single one. Trust and understanding and healing, together, all that stuff Tony had dismissed so he wouldn’t have to admit how much he didn’t have it, and everything he’d somehow fallen into.

Promise number one: explaining, very quickly, about how seasons worked on earth. And maybe Loki would be just generous enough to share how seasons worked on Asgard.

Tony was going to enjoy this. 

~ 

“What do you mean, _Asgard is flat?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are again.
> 
> What happens next? Basically, Iron Man 3 and Thor 2. Though the more material they release from Thor 2, the less my fic lines up with it. But hey, everything's crazy because either it's clone!Loki who's more than a bit messed up, or it's real!Loki sneakily pretending to be clone!Loki and deliberately messing things up. 
> 
> Pending the outcome of Thor 2, I will almost certainly be writing more in this series (yay!) I've got some really fun and hopefully amusing ideas for when Stark and Loki end up back in Asgard. Sif tries to break them up (amateur.) Stark and Loki are adorable when they get drunk together, lots of giggling and in-jokes. Stark invents Asgardian investment economics to deal with a lord who's falling short on his taxes, and Loki has a Cunning Plan. Stark and Loki get interrupted at a delicate moment by Thor, King of Worst Timing Ever. I'd like these to line up with the Marvel Phase 2 canon, but if things go in a totally different direction I'll just work with that instead. The boys deserve some fun by now :) 
> 
> I will probably be putting the smaller ones of these on my Tumblr only, so keep an eye out for them over there. Longer ones where things actually happen will probably go up here.
> 
> Due to the extreme popularity of the idea, I will shamelessly promote my next fic, which is going to be based on [this](http://ao3-arkada.tumblr.com/post/64561730717/krakensdottir-darkly-stark-assvengrrs) gifset. Instead of recruiting them, evil!SHIELD takes the Avengers prisoner. Given the fact that exams are coming up and that I have no idea how long this fic is going to end up, I'm not going to put any kind of official release date on this. I suppose you'll get it when it's finished :)
> 
> Wrapping up this fic, as always, with thanks to my betas, [OfApplesAndArrows](http://of-apples-and-arrows.tumblr.com/) and [Haldane](http://haldane-ify.tumblr.com/). I cannot stress enough how important their work is. 
> 
> And you can find my Tumblr [here](http://ao3-arkada.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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